When Things Go Slightly Wrong
by Ninja C
Summary: A series of short stories about when things go slightly awry in the Harry Potter world. No particular era, plot, characters, or pairings.
1. The Cliff

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**Blanket Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm a multi-billionaire with the most internationally famous franchise ever, whose entire life consists of writing fanfiction about my own series even though it's over, complete with the occasional OC. Yeah, I think not. By the way, sorry about any Americanisms I may have in here, I'm just too lazy to find what it actually is in Britain.**

Chapter 1: The Cliff

Draco Malfoy hung by his fingertips off a cliff. He didn't know where it was, but he knew why he was there. This was his punishment for not fulfilling the task the Dark Lord had set for him. He didn't suppose anyone would be coming to his rescue, as no one knew he was there. If only he could help his new ally Harry…

"Draco!" he heard from not far away.

Recognizing the voice to belong to the boy he'd been thinking of not a minute ago, he cried out, "Here! I'm here, Harry!"

Harry's face appeared over the cliffside, a relieved expression gracing his features.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Draco said. "Help me out of this!"

Harry knelt down and held out his hand. Draco grasped it. Harry tried to pull him out, but he was too heavy. Suddenly, Draco's grip slipped.

"Hold on!" Harry ordered.

"I'm trying! Your hand's all sweaty," Draco replied.

Harry held out his other hand. "Give me your other hand."

"I don't know," Draco said worriedly.

"Do you want to get out or not, Draco?" Harry answered frustratedly.

Draco let go with his other hand – and fell.

Harry stared in horror at the spot where Draco Malfoy had just been.

"Oops."


	2. Mischief Managed

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**I hope you guys liked the last chapter! Here's some more fun-poking for you.**

Chapter 2: Mischief Managed

James Potter laughed as he ran into the Common Room, Sirius hot on his tail. Sprinting up to the dorm, he locked the door, but there was no rattling of the doorknob behind him. His best friend must have stayed in the Common Room.

James flopped onto his bed. He didn't know what Sirius was so mad about. All he'd done was tell everyone Sirius was gay. _Could he be planning revenge?_ he wondered. _…Nah._

Little did James know that Sirius _was_ in fact plotting his revenge, with the help of Remus, of course.

* * *

Upon hearing Sirius' plan, Remus wore a skeptical look. "I don't know, Padfoot. Are you sure this is okay?"

"Moony," Sirius put on an almost patronizing look, "my fine, lycanthropic friend. What is the motto of the Marauders?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'"

"Exactly. Now don't you think what we're talking about here qualifies as 'no good?'"

"I suppose."

"What is the line?"

Remus sighed and raised his right hand, and in unison with Sirius, promised, "'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.' But do you really think he'll fall for it?"

Sirius turned his head toward the fire and a very familiar redhead. "Oh, trust me, Moony. I don't think he'll be able to resist."

* * *

The next afternoon, Sirius surprised everyone by sitting next to James in Transfiguration.

James looked at him, bewildered. "Why are you sitting here? I thought you were going to kill me."

Sirius laughed. "Oh, Prongs. You silly, silly boy. Who couldn't forgive _you_?" He had to try very hard not to laugh at his best friend's cocky look at this comment. "Besides, to top it off, I've got a new way for you to get Evans."

James nearly squealed. "Tell me, tell me, TELL ME!"

Sirius whispered the plan into his ear. "Are you sure that'll work?"

"Works for me every time." Sirius had a grin that almost scared James, but he thought nothing of it.

* * *

During free period, James decided to enact his plan.

Running down the stairs from his dormitory, he spotted Lily in her usual seat by the fire. He strutted over to her, ruffling his hair as usual. "So, Evans."

"What do you want, Potter?" she asked, not looking up from her book.

"You know what? Let's play Pearl Harbor. You lay down and I'll blow you to heaven." Lily began to shake, and a few tears fell onto her book.

"Evans? Oh, Evans, don't cry! What did I do? Don't cry!"

Lily looked up, a few tears still rolling down her cheeks, but she was… laughing?

"Oh, MERLIN, Potter! That's a GIRL'S pick-up line!" She continued to laugh uproariously. James looked around, furious, for his backstabbing best friend.

Sirius and Remus waved from across the room, smiling and waggling their fingers like girls. "Mischief managed."


	3. Family Feud

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 3: Family Feud

"George, NO! We do not pull our pants down at dinner!" Molly Weasley sighed. It was Christmas, Christmas dinner, to be exact. With seven young children, six of them boys, this could not be good.

Arthur, thankfully, had taken Ron at the other end of the table, the one most prone to stuffing himself to bursting point, which he most often did. This only left her to deal with Ginny, Fred, and George. Great.

"Percy, put that book away, please, we're at dinner," Arthur reprimanded. Ron chose that moment to be opportune to fling mashed potatoes at the cover of said book, effectively angering Percy. "Mother, aren't you going to do something about this… this… hooligan?"

Molly pointedly ignored this, continuing to scan the room for any signs that Fred and George may have set up anything to sabotage this "peaceful" evening.

Bill and Charlie had gotten into a heated conversation about Quidditch strategies. It was obvious that Charlie was looking forward to attending Hogwarts the next year. Bill hit his fist on the table, accidentally catching it on his spoon full of peas. The food landed upon Ginny, who actually glared. For a one-year-old, that glare was pretty fierce. Bill gulped.

Grabbing a fistful of creamed squash, she flung it at Bill, who ducked, making it hit Percy in the face. Percy gasped melodramatically and announced that he was leaving the table. Ron apparently didn't like this idea, because as Percy turned to leave, a _splat _was heard, and there was a brown splotch of treacle tart on the back of his now red neck.

Normally calm Percy whirled around, glaring at his two youngest siblings. "_This means war!_" he hissed. He grabbed some potatoes from Fred's plate, much to his brother's indignation, and tossed it at Ron.

Fred and George took this opportunity to clamber up onto the table and holler, "FOOD FIGHT!"

Each child at the table grabbed food of some sort and began to fling it around the dining room, much to Molly's horror.

"Amazing! This is just like a Muggle school lunch!" she heard her husband whisper excitedly.

"ARTHUR!"

"Sorry, Molly."

And with that, they began the futile quest to get their children to behave.

"Percy – Ron – stop – hey – everyone – QUIET!" Molly had now raised her voice, silencing everyone immediately.

Bill began edging out of the room. "I'm just going to go and repack my things for school."

"I'll go and help him," Charlie added, trailing after.

Grabbing Ginny, Percy left, saying he would put her to bed.

The twins gave their mother an innocent smile, before running as fast as their four-year-old legs could take them.

Arthur looked shiftily around him at the food-splattered walls, then ran after his sons in a very unconvincing act of going to punish them.

Ron cried, "Dada!" and crawled after his father.

Molly looked around at the mess that only she was left to clean. Oy vey.


	4. Bathroom Break

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Here's another chapter.**

Chapter 4: Bathroom Break

Albus Dumbledore was desperate. He REALLY had to go!

After running around the school and getting effectively lost, he didn't know what to do. He didn't know where he was. Not only that, but his feet were cold! If only SOMEONE would just gift him some woolen socks…

Dumbledore passed a tapestry. Wait a minute… he recognized that tapestry!

He backtracked. This tapestry had always fascinated him. The sheer amusement of it all made him giddy. Now THAT was art.

Dumbledore paced for a minute, taking it all in, looking at the tapestry from different angles. Turning around a fourth time, he suddenly noticed a door on the opposite wall. Funny… he hadn't noticed that before.

Opening the door, he was extremely relieved, yet very bemused to see over a hundred chamber pots of all shapes and sizes. He decided not to question it. He'd learned long ago to simply grin and bear it when it came to the mysteries of this castle that he'd for so long called his home.

After relieving himself, Dumbledore stepped out of the room again. Looking at his watch, he realized he didn't _have_ a watch. Stepping out of the corridor, he turned back once more to admire the tapestry. Strange. The door had gone.

Dumbledore shrugged and began to make his way back to his office. After all, there were too many mysteries in this world to try and answer before breakfast.


	5. Switcharoo

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**This takes place during Fred and George's pranking phase in OotP, where they give Umbridge hell for, like, a month.**

Chapter 5: Switcharoo

Voldemort was angry. He stomped (okay, more like flew) in an angry huff to his bedroom. Ah, his bedroom. His lovely emo bedroom. It always put him in such a bad mood. Lovely.

Reaching the seclusion of his room, Voldemort stayed facing the door, shoulders slumped, sighing at his minions' stupidity. I mean, a DISNEY MOVIE NIGHT? What were they, four? And now, in his angry huff, he was missing his favorite song from The Little Mermaid. Life just wasn't fair.

Voldemort turned around, completely expecting a room so black you couldn't see. What he saw was completely… uh…

The room was decorated in pink frilly furniture, with pink walls and pink carpet. There were little kittens prancing around on decorative plates that adorned the walls. What was more, THERE WERE WINDOWS. TWO OF THEM!

Letting out a high-pitched, girlish shriek, Lord Voldemort slumped to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

Many miles away in a very large castle, Dolores Umbridge waddled to her office. Those pesky children didn't know what they had coming for them. She'd show them, the little…

Umbridge froze in the doorway. She couldn't see anything. Pulling out her wand, she muttered _"Lumos," _but nothing happened.

Where were her pink walls, windows, kitten plates? The toad-like woman slumped to the floor.

At each location, a tall redheaded young man stood watching each scene, both under a Disillusionment Charm. Ah, the things you could do with a simple Switching Spell…


	6. The Nightmare

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 6: The Nightmare

Fred and George Weasley walked into the Great Hall, straight-backed and heads held high. Their highly polished shoes shone with the reflection of the cloudless blue sky above.

"Good morning, Ronald," they greeted their brother, tucking their napkins into their shirts so as not to get any food on the perfectly pressed, spotlessly clean school robes.

They ate their breakfast without a word, using the knife and fork properly, not getting food on themselves or anyone else in the Great Hall. Standing up, their parted, combed hair was visible to everyone in the giant room.

"Shall we attend to that homework now, Fred?" George asked politely.

"Yes, let's," agreed his brother.

"After you," Fred said when they reached the door.

"Oh, no, please, after you."

"Oh, but I insist."

"No, no, you must go first."

"Let's go together, shall we?"

"Yes, let's."

Arthur Weasley woke up screaming.


	7. Revenge of a Mother

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 7: Revenge of a Mother

Sirius Black whistled as he locked the door of his London flat with his wand. Today was a wonderful day. Little Harry's first birthday had been yesterday, and he'd given his godson a toy broom. Reminded him of James so much, watching Harry whiz around.

Lily hadn't been too happy about it, as her son knocked over a vase and practically scalped the cat. But Sirius knew she'd forgive him. After all, James and Harry had loved it.

Turning around, he walked to the garage. He opened the door… and saw his motorcycle… covered in something pink.

* * *

Ten miles away in a little cottage, Lily Potter heard a loud scream, "EVANS!"

**Yes, that pink stuff is just paint. And yes, he still calls her Evans, but only when he's mad or teasing.**


	8. Chocolate Withdrawal

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 8: Chocolate Withdrawal

Remus Lupin was very annoyed. Honeydukes chocolate prices had gone up from three sickles to seven. That was outrageous!

Remus had never been one of the richest people at Hogwarts, and he currently could barely afford two slabs of the delectable candy a week. Now he couldn't even buy one.

Sneaking back into the castle, he fumed in his dorm for a while, jealously watching James and Sirius, the two richest people in the school, sleep. They could buy themselves anything they wanted, whereas he might go into withdrawal from lack of chocolate. This could not be good.

* * *

For the next week, Remus got steadily worse. He was running low on energy, and chocolate gave him the patience to put up with his three best friends. It was making him insane.

Finally on Friday, Remus cracked. While James and Sirius played wizard chess and he himself tried to study, he noticed that Peter had a chocolate bar in his hand. Watching his friend consume the treat, he licked his lips, the need for chocolate driving him.

"You okay, Moony?" Peter asked, chocolate all around his mouth. "You look kind of… mad."

"Yeah, it's not even close to the day yet," Sirius agreed.

Remus' sanity absolutely snapped. Yelling like a maniac, he leapt up. With a crazed look in his eyes, he grabbed his belt… and pulled his pants down.

Everyone in the room except for the Marauders screamed and averted their eyes, most people running up to their dormitories. Remus appeared to realize what he'd done, blushed furiously, and ran up the stairs as well.

Lily Evans sat across the room, the only other person who hadn't run. "Well, that was… odd."

James shrugged and directed his bishop. "Why do you think we call him Moony?"


	9. Bad Everything Day

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 9: Bad… Everything Day

Harry Potter had woken up this morning with bed head. Not like he didn't every day, but today it was worse.

The shower head had been turned outside the actual shower, so he got sprayed from head to toe while he undressed. Probably a trick Dean had set for Seamus or something.

When he'd actually gotten into the shower, he'd slipped and hit his head on the wall. He had the throbbing bump on the side of his head to prove it.

Things couldn't get any worse. So, of course, they did. Harry had put his robes on backwards and put one sock on his hand before he realized what he was doing.

Coming down the stairs, he tripped on his untied shoelace, toppling down the stairs.

He brushed himself off and walked over to where Ginny was sitting on the couch. Making a wrong step, his foot caught on the leg of the couch and sent him flying face first into the rug at Ginny's feet.

"Harry, honey?" Ginny sounded like someone talking to a mental patient. "Are you okay?"

Harry got up and fell down onto the couch, mumbling incoherently about showers and socks.

"Harry, why – why don't you go back to bed?" Ginny still sounded like she was persuading someone to put a gun down, putting a hand on his arm.

"Yeah, I'll… I'll go back to bed…" Harry stood back up, Ginny half standing as well to help him if he fell again. He walked up the stairs, and Ginny sat back down. A resounding crash came from the boy's staircase a few seconds later. Ginny sighed and conjured a cup of tea, inwardly laughing at Hermione's little Confunding prank. Ron would be down any minute now…


	10. Equal Treatment

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**It is International Dog Day today (as well as Women's Equality Day), so this is in tribute.**

Chapter 10: Equal Treatment

"OOF!"

Sirius got up from the floor, rubbing the back of his head. He untangled himself from the sheets, which he threw back onto the camp bed where he slept at Prongs' house.

Speaking of whom…

Sirius leapt onto James' bed, squashing its occupant in the process. "PRONGS PRONGS PRONGS PRONGS PRONGS PRONGS PRONGS PRO-"

"SHUT UP ALREADY!" James screamed from the spot that was now his on the floor. "What the hell was that for?"

"GIVE ME CAKE!" Sirius hollered in return.

"What? Why?" asked Remus, who had obviously been woken up on the other side of the house, as he walked in the door.

Peter walked in behind him. "Hey, Padfoot, were those your dulcet tones we heard from the opposite side of the house? You really shouldn't bottle up all your excitement like that, let it all out so the people in Algeria can hear you."

"Today is International Dog Day, mates!" Sirius yelled again, running around the room in a fit of extreme hyperactivity.

James looked at him strangely. "And you know this _how_?"

"Oh, believe me, I have my ways," Sirius whispered, putting on an actually _serious_ look.

"Boys? Is that you?" Mrs. Potter's voice came wafting up the stairs. "Is everything alright? Breakfast is ready!"

"BREAKFAST!" Sirius yelled loudly again, pulling James to his feet, who yelled back, "Hey, Pad! Could you speak up a bit? I didn't quite catch that!" Sirius rushed downstairs like his tail was on fire, dragging an unwilling James behind him.

When all the Marauders were downstairs, Sirius repeated, "GIVE ME CAKE!"

"And why should I do that?" Mrs. Potter inquired, putting her hands on her hips.

Sirius put on a smile that a five-year-old might have. "Because it's-" He stopped suddenly at the looks his fellow Marauders were giving him. "Because… because, uh… because… I want some?" he finished sheepishly.

Mrs. Potter looked unconvinced. "Well, if you get cake, so do I. It's Women's Equality Day today, you know." She turned around to wash the dishes.

The Marauders all turned to Sirius, and replied, "NO, SIRIUS." Sirius pouted. The other three rolled their eyes. "Listen, Pad," Remus said, "if you get special treatment, we'll have to treat Prongs' mom the same way. Now, do you really want that from us?"

"Mrs. Potter!" Sirius called. "I've made my decision."

James' mother turned back around, her hands soapy. "So? Are you going to have cake, or not?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, Sirius and Mrs. Potter sat in chaises in the living room eating slices of chocolate cake while James, Remus, and Peter fanned them with palm branches, giving their friend looks that quite clearly said, "We're going to kill you for this later."


	11. The Usual Death Eater Meeting

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**Thank you so much for this idea, LLAMAS WILL RULE THE WORLD! All credit goes to you for the idea. I just do the plot… or lack thereof.**

Chapter 11: The Usual Death Eater Meeting

Harry stood at a bus stop in London. He looked at his watch every once in a while, making it seem like he was in a hurry, when he knew full well that he was simply wandering aimlessly with nothing to do.

Suddenly, a blurry black shape came out of the mist. Harry watched it approach him, until he was looking into a deathly white face. A face that had haunted his nightmares for years. A face that had been the source of all his misery. A face that he'd known since he was a baby, with red eyes and a slit nose.

"Hey," Harry greeted him.

They stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds. Voldemort began to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. "So… how's school?"

"Eh, it's school."

There was another brief silence. "So… Potter…"

"Yeah, Riddle?"

"Um… are you doing anything later?"

"Uh…" Harry didn't know where this was coming from, nor did he think he wanted to. Was Voldemort about to say what he thought he was going to say? "No?"

"Well, then, do you want to come over to my place later?" Okay, kind of wrong. "NOT like that," Voldemort added, seeing the look on his mortal enemy's face.

Harry thought for a minute. _Okay, so if he's not inviting me over in THAT way, he must be plotting something diabolical! He's trying to lure me over to kill me!_

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks, Riddle," he replied as Voldemort's face fell.

"Oh, but PLEASE?" Voldemort begged.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Hey, the bus is here."

They boarded the bus and Voldemort sat down in the front. Harry, consequentially, sat in the back. Voldemort, of course, noticed, and moved next to him.

Harry scooted over as far as he could to the window, but his companion didn't say anything for the entire ride, much to his relief.

They got off in about ten minutes, and Voldemort disappeared through the mist again. Harry suddenly felt a slight weight in his pocket, and he was reminded of the Philosopher's Stone in first year. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out… a plate?

The plate was tiny, as if it had come from a dollhouse. There was writing around the edge. Harry looked closer to read:

_Please come to Lord Voldemort's house today for a special surprise! Just go down to Malfoy Manor, and ask their house elf to show you the dungeon, the one with all of the torture devices. Please attend!_

That is why, against his better judgment, Harry ended up at the gates of Malfoy Manor. He'd thought he may as well humour Voldemort. After all, he'd defeated him, what, five times already? Once more certainly couldn't hurt.

He did as the miniscule plate asked and followed the tiny house elf to the dungeon door. He pulled his wand out, brandishing it in front of him, and pushed the door open.

Around a small round table sat Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange, Snape, the Malfoys, and a few stuffed animals.

"Hello, Potter," Voldemort called, sipping his tea, "have a seat. Crumpets?"


	12. A Pregnant Woman's Wrath

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**This chapter was born from when I was at Akira43's house watching High School Musical 2 the night it premiered. We were nearly crying from Troy and Gabriella's breakup, and then, while Troy was singing "Bet On It" and prancing around the golf course (positively normal behavior, I'm sure), she says "Now watch him get hit in the head with a golf ball." And then we laughed for an hour. And made brownies.**

Chapter 12: A Pregnant Woman's Wrath

Lily Potter sat behind the wheel of the car, turning off the highway. Her husband James sat next to her, and their friends Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Alice and Frank Longbottom sat in the backseat that Lily had magically expanded. They were going to (drumroll please) a mini golf course.

Obviously, when they'd heard about it, James and Sirius had been thrilled. Actually, "thrilled" was an understatement. The two of them were now bouncing in their seats, chanting "We're going to the golf court! We're going to the golf court!" in a very irritating singsong voice, much to the annoyance of their fellow passengers.

Lily sighed. Her patience was running thin. Feeling a kick, she absentmindedly patted her six-months-pregnant stomach. Still the chanting was going on.

"IF YOU'RE QUITE FINISHED!" she shouted, making the two men jump along with everyone else in the car, effectively shutting them up.

"You are twenty-year-old men!" Lily continued, while Remus and the Longbottoms struck up a conversation about iceberg lettuce in the backseat.

James hitched the famous Potter look of innocence onto his face. "I know, doll, but we're excited about this golfing thing!"

Sirius put on a matching grin. "Yeah, Lily. We've never been to a golf court before!"

Lily sighed again. "First of all, it's golf COURSE. Second of all, I don't want you two acting like this when we get there."

Remus' head popped up between them. "Oh, they will. They don't have any time to compose themselves anyway. We're here."

The boys gave each other grins like children (or themselves) in a candy shop, hopping out of the vehicle and running to the building. Remus and Frank got out, staying behind to help the pregnant women out of the car.

They reached the building, and almost immediately Lily wished they hadn't come. Sirius and James were running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

"LOOK, PADFOOT!" James hollered excitedly, picking up a putter. "IT LOOKS JUST LIKE A BEATER'S – " Lily had leapt across the room as fast as her stomach would allow and clamped his mouth shut with her hand.

"Alice," she said calmly, though the anger she felt showed through her eyes, "would you get them the balls and such?" Alice had taken Muggle Studies; she'd know what to do. Grabbing Sirius' ear, she pulled the two boys outside for a "talk."

* * *

After a very harsh reprimanding session, the four boys were out on the course, while the two women sat on a bench in the shade to keep an eye on them. The best friends discussed baby names for a while, eventually getting bored and looking around for the boys again.

Remus had evidently taught the rest of them how to play, because Frank and James were playing very well. Sirius, on the other hand…

Sirius swung. Very, very wildly. The ball flew towards James, who was at the other end of the green retrieving his ball, conking him square on the top of his head. He slumped to the ground. The putter came flying towards the women, but Lily's finely honed reflexes caught it before it hit them. Alice rolled her eyes, sighing and smacking herself on the forehead. Lily, looking livid, flung the club back at Sirius, her amazing aim hitting him in the groin. Remus and Frank looked at the unconscious James and the writhing Sirius, shrugged, and walked away.

Lily and Alice finally decided to get up, hauling the pathetic excuses for men to the bench they had just vacated. Soon enough, Remus and Frank were finished, and James and Sirius' sorry carcasses were hauled back to the car.

The drive back home was pretty quiet, besides Sirius' groans, which died as soon as Remus shot a Stunning spell at him just to shut him up.

* * *

James' eyes slowly opened, only to water as soon as he felt the pain on the top of his head. He tried to raise his hand to feel it – but he couldn't. He appeared to be tied to a chair, along with Sirius. Wait – Sirius?

He glared at his best friend's unmoving head as he realized who had knocked him out.

"Oh, you're awake."

Turning his head, James saw his wife in a dressing gown carrying her wand. She cast a nonverbal spell at Sirius, who finally stirred. James turned back around to glare at him again, only to see a horrified look on his face. He stared at his best friend, confused, until he heard an ominous buzzing noise. That could not be good.

Lily was stalking towards them with an electric razor in her hand.


	13. Yep, We're Dead

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 13: Yep, We're Dead

The entirety of the Hogwarts staff was on the floor unconscious. Professor Sprout's patched hat had flown across the room, and Professor Dumbledore's knickers were showing from under his off-kilter robes.

A groan was heard from the midst of the eighteen adults. Professor McGonagall stood up, straightening her tartan robes. The other teachers began to stir as well, until after about a minute, eighteen now fully clothed witches and wizards stood in the space.

It looked like the Entrance Hall, but they couldn't be sure. It looked a bit more ethereal than the real Hall, sort of blurry around the edges and better lit.

"What happened?" Filius Flitwick's squeaky tremor issued from their midst.

"You know, I'm not sure myself," Dumbledore remarked casually. A collective gasp ran around the group in unison. Dumbledore didn't know?

"But, Albus," Professor McGonagall touched his shoulder with a slightly panicked look, "how can you not know? Hasn't a phenomenon like this occurred before to your knowledge?"

"I do not believe so, Minerva." He looked around his staff. "I believe we are, so to speak, 'beyond the veil.'"

"Now what is that supposed to mean?" someone shouted.

"It means, my dear Professor Vector, that we - "

He was cut off by a sudden, "Hey! Where did Snape go?" A murmur ran around the room, and everyone's eyes roamed around, looking for their missing colleague. Dumbledore cleared his throat patiently.

Everybody's heads swiveled back around to their employer. "It means," he continued, "that we are probably dead."

"Dead?" Filch burst out. "We can't be dead! Who'll look after Mrs. Norris?"

The other staff members started telling him off with remarks like, "Who cares about that ghastly cat of yours?" and, "I personally am glad that she's going to starve!" until they were cut off. Their heads all turned to the easternmost corridor.

Snape skipped into their midst, carrying a basket full of something that he was throwing into the air. As he got closer, they saw that he was flinging rose and lilac petals.

"Hello, everyone! Isn't it simply a wonderfully splendiferously fantabulous day? La la la la la la la…"

The teachers eyes all followed the skipping man. They all stood in stunned silence, then, from their midst:

"Yep, we're dead."


	14. What Would Have Happened

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 14: What Would Have Happened If Slughorn Had Lied

Tom Riddle looked down at the white material pinning his arms to his chest. He looked up again, observing the cushiony walls surrounding him. The white objects were only vaguely visible, as the room he currently sat in was not lit in any way, shape, or form.

He still looked as devastatingly handsome as he had his whole life. His plans for world conquest had been thwarted long ago, when the whole "Horcrux" thing had blown up in his face. Maybe Slughorn wasn't as gullible as he'd thought…

The door opened, and a red-faced nurse came in, giggling as always, unaware that Tom was actually perfectly sane and in full knowledge of her crush on him. She was the same nurse who has been on the scene five years ago and who had brought him to this confounded asylum, believing he was in dire need of immediate mental attention.

"Hello, Tommy, love," she affectionately but slowly greeted him, in a tone that suggested she was talking to a mental patient… well, technically, she was.

She sat down next to him, just as she had on that bench five years ago. "Oh, Tommy, do you remember when we first met?"

He looked at her bemusedly, his eyes asking her to go on.

"Well, I was just sitting there drinking my coffee and reading the paper, and I hadn't noticed that the man sitting next to me was starkers. But then you stood up and got some potatoes out of your bag, and started rubbing them all over yourself, screaming, 'Immortality, here I come!' and laughing maniacally."

Tom scowled, thinking of that false information Slughorn had given him on how one goes about making Horcruxes… I mean, potatoes? He should have seen right through that. He should have known the old walrus wouldn't have caved that easily.

The nurse's watch beeped. "Time for your lunch, my little snookiepoo!"

Out of her bag came a jar of strained peas. Tom inwardly groaned. They really needed to stop feeding him baby food.

"Here comes the train, Tommy! Chugga chugga, chugga chugga…yum, yum!"

Tom chewed resignedly. Forcefeeding was so childish. The nurse left after he finished his peas, pinching his cheeks and kissing the top of his head. He was thrown again into silence and darkness as she shut the door. He'd show them all someday. One of these days…


	15. Voodoo

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 15: Voodoo

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the Great Hall at breakfast. Ron and Harry were holding a conversation about their upcoming Quidditch match while Hermione read one of her textbooks for fun (again). Suddenly, Harry put his hand up to his forehead, yelling, "OW!"

Ron and Hermione jumped up. "What's Voldemort doing now?" "Is it your scar again?" Many people began staring at them in a way that suggested everyone thought they were absolutely mental.

"No, it wasn't my scar," Harry told them with a puzzled look on his face. "It feels like someone just poked me."

Suddenly, his arm wheeled around, smacking Ron in the face. He fell off the bench with a _thud_. Hermione gasped. Ron resurfaced a second later, sporting a bloody nose.

"What the _hell_ did you do that for?"

Harry looked thoroughly confused. "I – I don't know! I'm sorry! My arm just swung around and whacked you involuntarily!"

Hermione got the "I'm-going-to-go-to-the-library" look on her face. "Hey, guys, I think I'm going to go to the - "

"Library, yeah, we know, Hermione," Ron sighed. She sprinted out of the room and down the hall, and Harry and Ron heard her voice, "Madam Pince! Madam Pince! Do you have any books on…"

At once, Harry was yanked into the air by the ankle.

"GAH!" he screamed. "Ron, what was that for? I said I was sorry!"

"I'm not doing anything!" said Ron, whom Harry now noticed didn't have his wand out anyway.

"Oh," was his genius response. "Well, I seem to be in a bit of a predicament, don't I?"

People had begun to notice him, though why it took them so long, Harry did not know. They were pointing at him and giggling. "Hey, look at Pot-head!" shouted someone from the Slytherin table.

Harry began to feel dizzy. All the blood was rushing to his head. He was about to perform the counter-curse on himself, when he realized he couldn't move. He tried reaching his wand, but couldn't. "What is going on?" he was going to say, but found that his mouth would not open, either.

_Hmm_, he thought pensively. _I appear to be under the Full Body-Bind curse. Interesting._

He was now looking at the ceiling. He began to rotate more rapidly, and just as he thought he was going to throw up, he fell out of the sky. Face down. Onto the flagstones.

"GAAAAAAAAH!" he screeched as he fell.

A collective gasp was heard around the room as he connected with the floor. "Ow," came from Harry, muffled by the floor.

His legs began to jerk, bringing him upright. He saw Ron out of the corner of his eye, munching on some popcorn. "Thanks, Ron," he thought.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, hey, I can talk again! Sweet!"

"Yeah, you can talk, and apparently now you can dance. I never knew that."

Harry looked down. Son of a gun! He _was_ dancing, and dancing well. He began waggling his fingers in a jazzy motion, enjoying this, though he had no clue why he was dancing. _Hey, wait a second! _he thought. _I can't dance! _The moment he thought this, his legs stopped moving, pausing in an incredibly awkward position. He fell flat on his face again. "Whoa!"

That seemed to be the end of the strange circumstances. Harry lay there a little while longer, just to make sure. When nothing happened, he leapt up and went back to his scrambled eggs, acting as if nothing had happened.

From the Head Table, Professor Dumbledore viewed the entire spectacle with endless amusement. How did young Mr. Potter perform some of those stunts? He chuckled, reminded of his own school days.

Professor McGonagall leaned over to him unexpectedly. "Albus, where exactly is Professor Snape?"

He leaned over. Sure enough, Severus' seat was vacant. "I can assure you, my dear Minerva," he replied, "that I have absolutely no idea." And he went back to playing with his animal crackers.

* * *

In the fifth dungeon on the left, Severus Snape dropped a miniscule figure onto the floor. It was adorned with a small sprig of black hair, sticking straight up. "That's enough for today."

In the Great Hall floors above, Harry Potter fell out of his seat.

"OW!"


	16. Babysitting

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 16: Babysitting

"And you're absolutely sure we shouldn't stay home?" Lily asked for the 1,000,223,006th time that day. She and Alice Longbottom were about to embark on a long-needed shopping trip, the first time their sons had been alone with their fathers since they were born.

"Sure, sure," Frank reassured them. "Go have some fun. We'll be fine," he stressed again at the sight of their doubtful faces.

"Yeah, Lils," James came around the corner. "We're perfectly capable of watching our own sons." The four adults all turned to look at the boys on the blanket spread in the middle of the Potters' living room. The only thing was, the boys weren't there. James' and Frank's eyes widened in horror.

"OH MY GOD!" James screeched. "OH MY GOD, FRANK! WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?" And the two mature, grown men began running around in a circle, screaming their heads off like maniacs.

"GOTCHA!" Alice squealed. She and Lily pushed the curtains aside from the window. Harry and Neville crawled back to their blanket, baby-babbling all the way.

James and Frank tried to look cool. "We totally knew they were there, you know. We were just seeing if _you_ knew." James nudged Frank hard in the ribs.

"OW! I mean, yeah, definitely."

Lily and Alice rolled their eyes at each other. "It is painfully obvious that you two are insufficient fathers," Lily remarked. "We just may never leave you alone in a room with either of your sons again."

"But," Alice continued, "we suppose we trust you enough to leave for a few hours."

"_Yessss_!" Frank smacked James a high five.

"We'll be back at one o'clock," Lily said. The ladies finally left the house.

"One o'clock." Alice popped her head back in as she said this. It sounded like a warning instead of a reminder. The door slammed, and they were gone.

Three seconds after the telltale popping noise of Apparition, Harry and Neville began to cry.

Their fathers looked at each other with that deer-in-the-headlights stare.

"What do we do?" Frank picked up Neville, looking worried. James picked up his own wailing son, looking frightened as well.

"Er, uh…" James spotted the toys still lying on the blanket. He picked up a little plastic Snitch, squeaking it in front of Harry's nose. "Here's the Snitch, Harry! Go catch the Snitch!" He threw it across the room, making Harry cry louder. Frank stared at him in disbelief.

"That's dogs, James. Not infants."

"Oh, yeah."

The men stared at their sons some more, completely unsure of what to do.

"…Maybe they're hungry," Frank offered. James thought back. How exactly did Lily feed Ha… ew.

"Er, I don't exactly think we're… equipped for that, Frank."

They both shuddered, and put down the boys.

Neville seemed to be playing with something. Something long and straight. Something that looked like it was wooden…

Neville thrust the wand at the lamp, turning it into a balloon. James and Frank gasped as yellow light erupted, but sighed in relief when they saw it was just a balloon.

Neville blew spit bubbles, gurgling in joy.

The balloon drifted toward the center of the room… and the ceiling fan. Harry's and Neville's wide eyes followed its progress, until it made contact with the whirring blades.

The balloon burst into pieces with an enormous popping sound, sending Neville and Harry into hysterics again. The yellow latex shreds fluttered to the ground.

"Aw, Merlin!" James groaned. "They're crying again!"

"Ew," Frank remarked. "What's that smell?"

James sniffed. Pew! He picked up his son and sniffed him. He gagged. Coughing, he spluttered, "What the hell do you think it is?"

Frank picked up Neville gingerly. "I… I think we broke them!"

The men screamed for a few seconds again.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH – hey, wait!" James turned Harry upside down. He sniffed his behind. The stench was so foul he clutched his nose… and dropped his son.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

"JAMES!"

"What? At least I figured out what's wrong!"

Frank eagerly put Neville down. "What?"

"They just need a diaper change!"

Frank and James stared blankly at their wailing sons. "Frank, do you, by any chance, know how to change a diaper?"

"Uh…" James took that as a no.

They picked up the boys and headed toward Harry's nursery, where the oddly-shaped table was. James thought that's where Lily changed Harry's diapers… wasn't it?

James set Harry down on the table, and Neville crawled over to Harry's stuffed animals after being let down by his father.

"Hmm… erm… let's see now…" James had no clue what he was doing. He took off Harry's little one-piece outfit thing, so he was now stripped to his diaper. The stench was almost overwhelming. Frank leapt back.

"Oh, that stinks!" Frank's eyes started to water.

James pulled off the sticky tab-like things. Rolling up the soiled diaper, he threw in into the corner. Now… new diapers. Where in Merlin's name were those diapers? Pulling out a drawer, James pulled out a fresh diaper with what looked to be frolicking cartoon mice printed on it.

He held the diaper, unsure what to do. "Uh… here, Frank, you do it!"

Frank stepped up to Harry, who appeared to be enjoying being naked. His legs were wriggling about in such a fashion that Frank could not get the diaper under him. James grabbed his legs and held them together, making Harry mad. He started crying again… and then he began to pee.

"GAAAAH!" The two men obviously did not have the sense to step back instead of staying where they were and getting drenched in urine.

"Frank, Frank, what do I do?" James shrieked. "I got this shirt from my mum! …I mean, I got it from a really manly store, and it was the only one they had!"

Harry stopped peeing, and Frank quickly whipped the diaper over his front and stuck the tabs. James, muttering darkly, changed his shirt while Frank tried to change Neville's diaper on his own.

The newly changed boys were on their blanket again, innocently playing peekaboo with James' underwear. It had only been an hour since their mothers had left for the day. James and Frank were dead asleep, James on the couch and Frank in a chair. Frank was drooling a bit. A wailing cry was suddenly let loose into the air. They jerked awake, James falling off the couch. Grumbling, he pushed himself upright and glared at the two culprits.

Harry and Neville, were, of course, bawling their little heads off.

"What is it _now_?" Frank whined.

Harry stopped crying long enough for them to hear his stomach growl.

Sighing, they went into the kitchen and prepared two bottles. Frank, for some bizarre reason, heated them up in the miniwave, or whatever it was called.

"Alice does it," he explained matter-of-factly when James asked what in Merlin's name he was doing.

They brought the warm bottles back into the living room. Harry and Neville weren't there. They dropped the bottles onto the floor.

_Why me?_ James thought ruefully as he and Frank ran around the house, looking for a tuft of black hair, anything that would signal the finding of their sons. _This never happens to Lily._

Wheeling around the corner, James noticed that Frank was no longer with him. Ah, well.

He spied, at the other end of the hall, a small foot. _Aha! Got you, Harry!_

He caught the tiny bottom and picked him up. "Ha ha, found you, Harry!"

He turned the baby around. He was shocked to see Neville's face grinning up at him. "You're not Harry!" he exclaimed in shock.

Back in the living room were Frank and Harry. The two upended bottles had, miraculously, not spilled, on account of the oddly shaped lids.

Frank picked up both bottles as James put down Neville. "Now, Alice says that before we feed them, we have to test the temperature on bare skin." James gave him a skeptical look. "Well, she does! Go on, go on."

"Er, uh…" James aimed the bottle randomly.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

James opened his eyes. Neville was covered in milk.

Frank sighed. "Well, I'll go get another one." James heard rummaging in the kitchen a few seconds later while he wiped off Neville. Harry was giggling, for he found it extremely funny. Neville started giggling too, but pushed him over, all the same. Harry tried to retaliate, but James pulled them apart.

"Now, boys, if you can't play nice, you can't play together."

They looked at him innocently, their bottom lips trembling.

"Okay, okay, fine! Sheesh."

From the kitchen, Frank yelled, "Hey, James, where's the – oh, hey! Cool! Check it out, James!" His voice got louder as he approached the living room again. He came through the door, holding a cigarette lighter.

"Look, James! Doesn't this look like the thing Dumbledore has?" He began clicking at it. Nothing happened, until –

BOOM!

When the dust cleared, they discovered that the living room was covered in soot. James looked at Frank, or at least in his general direction, as he couldn't see with his soot-covered glasses.

"Way to go, Dumbledork."

Two hours, four diaper changes, one p

* * *

uking, three catastrophes, one trip to the park, eight clothing changes on the adults' part, thirteen fairy tales, and one very off-key lullaby later, Harry and Neville were blissfully asleep. It took the men another forty-five minutes to clean up the house.

Sighing, they plopped onto the couch and tried unsuccessfully to figure out where the little box was that controlled the T.B. While their behinds were in the air on either side of the couch, the door opened. Lily and Alice, chattering, walked in, laden with shopping bags.

The men dislodged themselves. "Hey, Alice. Hey, Lils," James said, pecking his wife on the cheek. "How was shopping?"

Alice and Lily looked warily at eachother and back to their husbands. "Fine," they slowly said together. "How was your day?" Alice asked.

Frank and James looked at eachother. "Oh, it was great!"

"Nothing exciting – "

"You know, nothing catastrophic or anything – "

"No trouble at all."

"Nope."

"Nothing."

They smiled guiltily.

"Right." Lily and Alice looked skeptically at one another.

"Seriously!" James defended themselves. "You can check on them now! Sleeping like the little… _angels_ they were all day."

After checking on the boys, Lily and Alice retreated to the bedroom to put away Lily's stuff.

* * *

Later that night, at the Longbottoms, Lily and Alice were watching the T.V., as it was correctly called. James and Frank were at work, and Lily had hired a babysitter with actual expertise. They were laughing their heads off at whatever they were watching…

"_Way to go, Dumbledork."_

"AAAAAAAHHHHH! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"


	17. When You Go Places You Shouldn't

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 17: When You Go Places You Shouldn't…

Eight-years-old Emma McCall strolled through the forest a few meters from her home, taking the left path. She wasn't supposed to be in the forest, but what did her parents know? They were just afraid of the dark that the densely packed trees provided.

(Of course, young Emma had no inkling of the murders sweeping the country committed by the Death Eaters. Her parents were positively frantic with worry.)

Emma breathed in the sweet, natural scent on the air. It was just so peaceful out here. She snatched up a fallen branch and began rustling the limb above her. When the leaves moved, she caught a glimpse of white. What was up in that tree?

Desperate to find out, Emma poked the branch with more vigor. The white something rolled around a bit, but didn't fall or become more visible to her. Huffily, she sat down against the trunk of the tree. She didn't care about that whatever-it-was. She was just going to close her eyes and forget all about it…

Until the whatever-it-was in question finally dislodged itself from the branch and proceeded to fall right on her face.

Emma shrieked and jumped up, rubbing her face vigorously. Then she remembered her curiosity, and bent low over the item. She immediately noticed the smell. It smelled like a dead animal or something. She plugged her nose and turned the thing over.

It was a dead animal, a poor snowy owl that must've gotten lost in a storm or something. Tears streamed down Emma's face as she tenderly buried the poor animal under the tree where it had fallen on her.

When she went home, she lied to her mother about where she had been, ate her vegetables, took a bath, and was plagued by nightmares featuring snowy owls attacking her in the night.

* * *

The next day, Emma McCall strode down the right path, not wanting to venture down the left again. Her irrational nightmares had spooked her thoroughly. Her brother Jack tagged along today, wanting to join in on the roguery.

Jack had an unusual pastime. He collected plastic body parts. He wanted to be a doctor someday, so he whiled away the hours constructing and reconstructing the human body.

Neither Emma nor Jack broke the peaceful serenity of the wood. It seemed almost surreal. They both flopped down in a grassy meadow after about ten minutes of walking. But as soon as Emma lay down her head, she felt something underneath it. She reached down curiously, and pulled out… Emma screamed.

It was a human ear.

Jack's head shot up from about eight feet away. He saw the ear, and, thinking it was artificial, raced over to grab it and put it with the rest of his collection. Emma held it away from him.

"Emma! Gimme that!" he shouted while trying to snatch it.

"It's not a fake one, you dummy!" Emma shouted back in complete horror. "This is a _real ear_!"

Jack finally stopped trying to get the ear and actually looked at it. It was covered in blood.

Jack screamed.

Emma screamed.

Jack screamed.

Emma screamed.

Jack screamed, "I'm going home!"

Emma grabbed the back of his t-shirt, pulling him back down to his bottom. "Jack McCall," she said menacingly, "If you tell Mummy or Daddy about this…" She let the threat hang, still glaring meaningfully at him.

Jack, being only six and easily persuaded, nodded his head fervently.

Emma stood up and threw the bloody ear as hard as she could muster.

She passed the slight bloodstain on the back of her head as the product of a nosebleed while she had her hair flipped over her face, did her homework, washed the dishes after dinner, and was again kept from sleep by nightmares of owls eating ears, and ears eating owls.

* * *

Emma McCall crept cautiously down the middle path the next day, on her toes for anything out of the ordinary.

After about an hour of hard hiking, Emma spied a log. She sat down on it, all set for a good five minute rest. Oddly, though, the log was quite comfortable. Almost… squishy.

Emma leaped back to her feet and inspected the "log". It was brown, and thick, and… hairy? She brushed away some of the grizzled hair and found one glassy brown eye staring back at her. The other eye socket was empty.

She screamed and hurtled back in the direction she'd come.

Emma McCall never entered the woods near her house again.


	18. Balls

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 18: Balls

The holidays were always a delightful time for the extended Weasley family. Both couples newly married, Harry and Ginny Potter and Ron and Hermione Weasley were staying at the Burrow this winter, along with George's and Bill's families. Christmas had come and gone, so the other Weasley siblings had gone with it, back to their usual jobs and lives.

The remaining Weasley clan was paid a surprising visit on December twenty-eighth by none other than… Oliver Wood?

"Well, I decided it was time to see my favorite Seeker and his family again," was Wood's reasoning as he pulled Harry into a man-hug while Ron stood sulkily in the corner. (Why he even cared, no one knew, as he had never played under Wood.)

And unsurprisingly, with Oliver came all his Quidditch gear.

"Never leaves home without it, I expect," George hissed laughingly to Harry after he had received his man-hug from Wood.

"Oi, I heard that!" came from across the room, where Oliver was chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who said certainly he could stay a few days.

Harry, Ron, and George were given the task of dragging Oliver's Quidditch stuff up three flights of stairs into Charlie's vacated room. Halfway up, Hermione and Ginny joined them, on their way to Ginny's room.

"What are you all doing?" Hermione asked, shaking her head and pulling out her wand. She proceeded to levitate the trunk the rest of the way to Charlie's room. Harry, feeling rather stupid, looked sheepishly to Ginny, who just snorted amusedly.

The group entered Charlie's room, then, feeling bored and not knowing what else to do, Harry unlatched the lid of the trunk. George left the room to get a sandwich. Harry put small charms on the Bludgers to prevent them from being mobile and took them out of their straps. Hermione and Ginny looked at him questioningly, and then Harry began to juggle them rather awkwardly. Ron randomly began sniggering.

"What?"

Ron struggled to suppress his smirk. "Having fun with Oliver's balls, Harry?" In gales of laughter, Ron didn't notice that no one else found it entertaining.

"That was _so_ not funny, Ronald," Ginny said exasperatedly. Hermione covered her forehead with her hand and shook her head sadly.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Harry said, but he, being male, couldn't hide what hinted at a smile.

George returned, chomping on a ham sandwich and looking at his brother as though he was Gilderoy Lockhart. "What's with him?" he asked Harry offhandedly. Then he looked at Harry's hands, and what was in them. He smirked, too.

"Not you too," Hermione moaned, but was drowned out by George's comment, "Always wanted to hold Wood's balls, haven't you, eh, Harry?" This sent Ron into an even harder laughing fit (he was turning blue), and George smirked even wider.

"None of you have _any_ hope whatsoever," Ginny said of her brothers disgustedly. Harry, grinning a little more, flung one Bludger halfheartedly at George's head, not wanting to cause any actual damage. George saw it coming and caught it. He tossed it back at Harry.

"Oh, tossing his balls, now, are we?" Harry said, finally giving in to his perverted side. Ron took the Bludger from Harry, having calmed down, and chucked it back to George. "Here it _comes_!" The three boys cracked up at this, and continued their immature game while their wives looked on from the side, never cracking a smile. They were so wrapped up in their… er… activities that they didn't notice a stunned figure appear in the doorway…

"What the _hell_ are you all doing with my balls?"

The boys all stopped laughing and whirled around, a bit frightened at the look on Wood's face.

The girls burst into laughter.

**God, the '**_**my**_** balls' makes the joke, I tell you. This came from me thinking about Horcruxes and how gross it is to be, like, holding someone in a tin can or something, and that made me think of what I'd put my Horcruxes in, and I thought a Quod (modified Quaffle), which made me… oh, Merlin. You get the idea.**

**Good times.**


	19. When Dobby Met Dudley

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 19: When Dobby Met Dudley

Dudley could hear the forced laughter of his parents and the Masons from his perch on the toilet. (I won't be going into detail about the grunting and panting emanating from his side of the wall.)

Out of nowhere, a midgety thing appeared with his back turned to Dudley with a large CRACK! Dudley started, understandably.

"Harry Potter, sir!" the thing squeaked as it turned around. When it saw that he was _not_, in fact, in the presence of Harry Potter, it let out a long squeal. Dudley screamed in shock, realizing that he was nude from the waist down.

(Dobby didn't much like it either.)

The thing finally came to its senses and popped away, like lightning. Dudley sat on the toilet, breathing hard. Hopefully that _thing_ would never darken number 4 Privet Drive's doorstep again.

**Oh, Dudley. You know he'll find Harry eventually.**


	20. So Happy Together

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**I FORGOT TO GIVE CREDIT FOR THE SCENE IN THE LAST CHAPTER!**

**The idea was **_**completely**_** stolen from Emmy Cicierega (aka B1nd1 on deviantArt), who made an animation called The Flaw with Aparation. While misspelled, this animation is **_**hysterical**_**. And all hers. Not mine. 'Kay.**

Chapter 20: So Happy Together

"_L IS FOR THE WAY YOU LOOK AT MEEEE,_

_O IS FOR THE ONLY ONE I SEEEEE,_

_V IS VERY VERY EXTR_ - "

"Shut _up_, Harry!" Ron yelled, punching the wall. Harry's serenading in the shower had been comical the first time, commonplace the fourth, and just plain obnoxious by the sixth.

Harry evidently didn't hear Ron, because he went on.

"_E IS EVEN MORE THAN ANYONE_…"

"_That's what girls do_

_They keep ya guessin' the whole day through_

_Play your emotions, push_ - "

Ron groaned. He and Harry couldn't stand Hermione's atrocious girly music.

"HERMIONE!" Harry's voice came through the wall muffled. "I NEED MY HARRY TIME! TURN IT DOWN!"

While Ron snickered at the phrase "Harry time", the music's volume did not decrease.

Hermione rounded the corner with a full laundry basket. "Did you say something?" she asked Ron.

"What?"

"I said, did you say something?"

Ron ran into Hermione's room, yanked out the stereo's plug (which he now knew was the part that gave it power) and went back.

"Hey, my music!" Hermione protested. She dropped the towel she was folding and started back to her room. Ron dashed back and blocked the door.

"No, Hermione, please!" he begged. "Not the music. _Anything_ but Dream Street. Harry and I can't stand your music, and you know it."

Hermione huffed. "Fine. I won't turn my music back on. You're going to help me fold laundry." She grabbed Ron's arm and started to drag him to the dropped towel. He almost groaned, but thought better of it.

They sat on the couch again to the song stylings of The Boy Who Lived.

"_LAST NIGHT I HEEEEEEARD A LONESOME DOVE CRYIIIIIN'_

'_WHERE WILL I GOOOOOOO? WHAT WILL I DOOOO?'_

_I'M LEFT HERE ALOOOOONE IN THE HEAT OF THE MORNIIIIIIIN'_

_FORSAKEN BY LOOOOOVE, UNWANTED BY YOOOUUUU!_"

Both wincing at Harry's attempt to reach a higher note than was feasible, Ron and Hermione folded. Every once in a while, Harry would change tack:

"_WE'LL DRINK PHOEEEEENIX TEARS_

_WE'LL DRINK PHOEEEENIX TEARS_…"

Ron reached into the basket blindly, preoccupied with ways to get Harry to shut up. Out came a pair of… erm… _delicates_.

He stared in horror at what was before his eyes. They looked a bit like… _Ginny's_.

A knock on the door sounded. Hermione yelled, "Come in!" and in walked Ginny herself.

"Hey, guys. Harry here?" she asked.

"Yeah," Hermione responded, "but right now it's 'Harry time'." The girls both snorted.

"What's up, Ron?" Ginny then inquired in alarm, for Ron had leapt up, red-faced, and was flapping the undergarment in his sister's face.

"I found _this_ in the laundry!" Ron bellowed. "I've tried to be a supportive brother and friend, I've condoned you and Harry going out, but this is where your big brother draws the line!"

"Oh, you _draw the line_, do you?" Ginny fumed. "I'm not a baby, Ronald Bilius, and if Big Brother's Watching Me, I'm perfectly capable of kicking him where the sun doesn't reach, got that? Oh, and here's something I'll bet you never even thought of! What if Harry and I _aren't having sex_, hmm?"

"We – well," Ron blustered, completely defeated by this revelation, "well, if they're not yours - "

"They're _Hermione's_, dungbomb-brain!" Ginny positively screamed. "She lives here, you know!"

Ron made a strangled noise and flung the underpants away from him. Harry, humming tranquilly on the way to his room with a towel thankfully fixed around his waist, got smacked in the face with them and went down squealing and flailing.

Hermione, still perched rigidly on the couch, glared at Ron as if to ask what was so wrong with her underwear, then got up. She yanked her knickers fiercely from where they were stuck over Harry's nose, ear, and elbow and stalked off.

Ginny's and Ron's faces were matching shades of burgundy. Harry left to put on pants.

Ginny finally broke the silence. "What possessed you to harp on me, anyway? She was sitting _right next to you_. You could've at least – oh," she trailed off, a look of understanding suddenly gleaming in her eye. "But you probably haven't _seen_ Hermione's underwear, have you, Ronnie? Oh, George is going to have - "

And Ron Stunned her.

Hermione rushed back in. "What was that? I heard a – _RONALD!_"

Harry was right behind Hermione and they both caught sight of the motionless Ginny on the floor of their flat.

Hermione _Silencio_ed Harry before any foul language could escape, then slapped Ron across the face.

"Ron! How could – Harry, _no!_" Harry had launched himself at Ron, and only by Enervating Ginny could she keep the two of them apart.

Of course, Ginny just shot a Bat-Bogey Hex at her brother, but Hermione stepped into the middle of the three others.

"So, Gin, what's for dinner?" Hermione asked pleadingly.

"Oh, dinner?" Ginny replied, a barely perceptible smirk dancing around her mouth. "It's a surprise. Why doesn't Ron get all the bogeys off in the shower while I'm cooking?"

Ron stalked off after a stern _go-do-it_ look from Hermione.

Harry turned to Ginny. "What are you really going to do?"

Ginny's grin spread. "Oh, I've already done it," she drawled, but before either of the others had the chance to ask what exactly she'd done, a high-pitched shriek came from the bathroom.

They all averted their eyes as Ron came dashing down the hall stark naked. A humongous spider was on his tail.

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny fist-bumped, laughing uproariously.


	21. The Massage

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 21: The Massage

Scrimgeour had Disapparated. Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way to the backyard, where Harry's seventeenth birthday party was still on hold.

Dinner was consumed, and everyone made their way over to the enormous Snitch-shaped cake.

"Before we eat the cake, I insist that we sing 'Happy Birthday'," Mrs. Weasley mandated. The group murmured its assent, and they launched into it.

_Happy birthday to you,_

_Happy…_

Ron's eye was caught by what appeared to be an imperfection in the frosting. From where he was standing, only he could see it. As the song droned on, he leaned closer and realized it was a sentence.

_There is a message in this icing._

_Massage?_ Ron thought, reading the smeared word incorrectly. _Pretty cool, for Harry's birthday. I never got a massage when I came of age. Mmm… that cake smells goooood._

The cake was diced up and everyone was given a slice. To Ron's immense disappointment, though, nobody leapt out of the cake to give massages.

They took their cake and sat in the grass. Ron sighed.

"What's up, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, nothing."


	22. The Most Evil Dark Power of Them All

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 22: The Most Evil Dark Power of Them All

Professor L. Swimbach strode briskly into her brand-spanking-new fourth-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class. One of the most highly acclaimed Aurors of her day, the children knew that she was not to be trifled with.

Professor Swimbach's eye caught a glimpse of bright purple as she approached the front of the room. Swiveling her head in surprise, she saw a head of violently violet hair. She looked down at her roster. Ah, of course. That would be the Lupin boy, son of one of the most prodigious young Aurors ever and one of this class's former professors. Not to mention his godfather was _the_ Harry Potter. It seemed that there would be at least _one_ student who knew what he was doing this year.

"Theodore, is it?" she asked him. The boy jumped, his face darkening. He nodded rapidly, facing resolutely forward. Professor Swimbach continued on her way.

Professor Swimbach placed her books neatly on the desk, then straightened up to address the class.

"Hello, students. I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Swimbach. If you're waiting for me to tell you a riveting action-adventure story about my life as an Auror, forget about it." Good. Her audience looked intimidated. She was giving off the right impression. "If you would please turn to page 47 in your textbooks, we may begin."

The class period was spent discussing the Babbling Curse, she only had to tell off four unruly boys, Theodore answered all the questions he was called on to answer correctly, and, once the bell had rung, Professor Swimbach assigned them all a three-foot-long essay on the proper decorum one should wield when using the spell. Satisfied with the day's work, she settled down to write a letter to her sister, explaining how easy this job was turning out to be.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor Common Room, Teddy Lupin's head bowed into a circle with his four dormmates.

"I don't know about you guys," Marcus Plane began, "but I say that new teacher has got to go."

"I second that!" exclaimed Delvin Krock, raising his hand in the air. The limb was forced down again by the other boys quickly.

"I dunno, mates," Teddy put in. "It's only the first day back, and – "

"Three feet of homework!" Hector Dobson interjected. "Like you just said, it's only the first day back! What right does she think she has?"

"Well, she's kind of our teacher, first of all," Teddy said, "and she's a fearsome Auror. I've learned the hard way over the years that Aurors are _not_ to be trifled with."

"But you've also learned that _that_ is not the way a DADA class should be taught!" Walt Faust returned. "Think about it, Ted. Your father was a professor, and your godfather has taught you everything you know and we don't."

"You've done better in this class than anyone," Delvin continued. "At this rate, you won't pass the OWL! _We_ won't pass the OWL!" The rest of the boys nodded.

"And are you going to let her do that to your honor?" Marcus finished.

Their pep talk – of a sort – worked. Teddy was finally fired up. "And that's not all!" he raged. "_She called me Theodore_."

"So are we going to take down this woman or what?" Hector whisper-shouted.

"YEAH!" Their heads got even closer together, and they began to plot their teacher's downfall.

That is, until another head joined their circle.

"What are you all snickering about?" The boys leapt away from each other to face Sarah McCormick, who was in their year. Her glasses glinted in the light as she waited for a response.

After much spluttering and stammering, the boys shut up.

"What – what d'you want, McCormick?" Walt snapped.

"Well, I saw you all in a rather awkward leaning position and wanted to join your acrobatic club," Sarah said matter-of-factly. The boys all looked on in confusion until Sarah rolled her eyes and said, "I want to know what you're plotting, dunces."

Delvin began to protest, but Teddy held up a hand. "Professor Swimbach is driving us crazy, and it's only the first day of classes. We're figuring out a way to get shot of her."

"Well, as we don't know anything about her," said, Sarah, who was already sitting down. The boys swiveled in astonishment as to how she moved so fast, "we can't really make that assessment yet, now can we?"

The boys settled awkwardly around Sarah. "Well, then, how can we get to know what makes her mad?" Marcus asked.

"Well, she's an Auror," Sarah stated. "There's a start. Now, who do we know who's an easily accessible Auror…?" she trailed off.

The dormmates looked at each other in confusion. "Jason Fleet?" Walt tried.

"No…" Sarah drawled.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" guessed Hector.

"No! He's _dead_, Dobson!"

"Oh, yeah."

"Alf Sim- " Teddy was cut off.

"_No_, Lupin! Merlin above, are all boys so thick?" Sarah shrieked in exasperation. "Your _godfather_, Teddy! Harry Potter!"

The boys all murmured variations of "Oh, yeah", turning slightly pink.

"Listen, Ted. Use the Floo Network to talk to your godfather, ask him what Swimbach's all about. Do it tonight, Lupin. We've got to be rid of that woman."

And with that, Sarah left, leaving the boys all a bit stunned at how matter-of-fact the planning session turned out to be.

* * *

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, Teddy crept down the stairs, invisible under Harry's Cloak, grabbed some Floo Powder from the pot on the hearth, and whispered "Harry Potter" into the fireplace.

He found himself looking at the Potters' living room, his godfather asleep on the couch, newspaper hanging from his fingers and glasses askew.

"Harry?"

Harry jolted awake, fell off the couch, and had to _Reparo_ his glasses for what must have been the twenty-seventh time in his life. Blinking blearily into the fireplace, he said, "Ted? Is that you, Teddy?"

"Listen, Harry, I haven't much time to talk, but I need a few questions answered," Teddy explained. Harry nodded stupidly, the effects of sleep still not fully worn off. Teddy continued. "You worked with a lady called Swimbach up until this year, right?"

"Yeah," Harry mused. "Dunno whatever happened to her. She's been around since Mad-Eye's time. You've learned about Mad-Eye, right?" He plowed on without an answer. "Loved your mum, he did. One of his favorites… what were we talking about again?"

Teddy sighed. His godfather was already getting slow. "Swimbach."

"Oh, yes, Louise."

"I need to know a few things about her… do you know of anything that she might love or hate, for example?"

Harry thought for a moment. "She's a damn good cook, for one. Finest treacle I ever had." Teddy knew he couldn't use that to his advantage. "Likes telling people what to do… oh, and she's a right grammar Nazi if I ever saw one - "

"Thanks, Harry, you're the best!" Teddy interrupted and ducked out of the fireplace.

"Happy to help," Harry replied, rather unsure of what had just happened.

* * *

The next week, their essay on the Babbling Curse was due to be turned in. Professor Swimbach began to collect the papers, starting with Hector's. She scribbled something at the top and immediately handed it back.

"A D?" Hector yelled when he read what she wrote. "You barely looked at it!"

Professor Swimbach looked up from her desk, where she was packing up her things. "Yes, Dobson, a D. The proper way to end a sentence is 'The Babbling Curse is a spell with which one can incapacitate his attacker,' not 'The Babbling Curse is a spell one can incapacitate his attacker with.'" She shuddered a bit, obviously repulsed by ending a sentence with a preposition.

Hector began to protest, but with a glance and a smirk from Teddy, he remembered the plan. "Well, Professor," he smiled, "I may need a bit of time to figure things out with."

Professor Swimbach's eyes widened. "Time _with which_ to figure things out, Mr. Dobson!" she admonished, and resumed looking at everyone's papers. At the end of the row, her eye began to twitch. The classmates all looked knowingly at each other, having received their Ps and Ds.

By the time Professor Swimbach reached the end of the second row, her face had paled. When she'd almost finished with the whole class, she looked about ready to either faint, puke, or start cha-cha-ing, the way her legs moved from student to student.

The name Lupin jumped out at her from the top of the last student's page, and Professor Swimbach smiled to herself and began reading. It was almost perfect, until the last line of the second paragraph.

_If none of these defensive measures work, you can always pull an ex-Auror from the fray to defend yourself with._

Professor Swimbach burst. She began to sway, then, gathering herself, marched to the closest desk and tore the student's essay to shreds.

"Horrible – moronic – imbeciles! Poor grammar is the most evil dark power of them all!" she shrieked, moving on to the next student, who sat calmly as she destroyed his essay. "You – _you - _" She pointed her finger threateningly, but never finished her sentence. She marched one more desk back.

"What about _you_, you snot-faced – where is she?" Professor Swimbach looked about the classroom, confused. One student seemed to be missing.

A tirade of words too foul to be put on the Internet came forth from her lips, and her face was so red and her voice so high-pitched that no one but Teddy and his dormmates noticed the door creak open. Sarah McCormick winked from around Minerva McGonagall's back. The headmistress cleared her throat serenely.

"Good day, Louise."

"…You language-abusing little sh – Headmistress!" Her tone changed from fuming to jovial in nothing flat. "H – how much did you hear?"

McGonagall smiled a bit and said, "I believe you were mentioning where a student's essay could find a new home in part of his anatomy…?"

If possible, Professor Swimbach got even redder. She spluttered for a moment or two, gathering her wits, and then strewing them (her wits, that is) away, or so it would seem, as she screamed, "MINERVA, I CAN'T TEACH THESE DEMON-SPAWN!"

"Ooh, new one," Walt muttered to Marcus.

Professor Swimbach had begun rushing to the back of the room, toward the door. "If you can't teach these children how to properly construct a sentence, there is nothing anyone can do! They shall sink lower and lower into the depths of stupidity, until they are too far in to save, and I believe this class is about halfway there!" She began sprinting down the hall.

"I expect I shall find your resignation on my desk in the morning, then?" McGonagall called out the door after her, to which she received in reply a fairly rude gesture.

Chuckling genially, McGonagall ducked back inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where forty-two pairs of eyes gazed at her expectantly.

"So?" Teddy asked. "What are we supposed to do?"

Professor McGonagall smiled slightly, a habit to which she had taken after the fall of the Dark Lord, and which she discovered had made her a more pleasant person with more friends than her old, tense self. "Well, I've never taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, I can't find a new professor on such short notice as to finish this class period, and it's a lovely day outside." The class's faces began to break into smiles. "I suppose there's nothing I can do to stop you if you were to, say, make your way quickly past my feeble, slow body to spend the rest of your class period by the lake…"

The class leapt up and rushed past their headmistress, muttering, "Thanks so much, Professor!" and the like. Teddy and Sarah were the only ones left behind.

"Please, Professor," Teddy implored, "never hire an Auror again. I heard about Moody, and after this lady… Well, Aurors are just crazy." They both sped out to the grounds, not leaving any time for an answer.

Professor McGonagall sighed wistfully. "Well, I suppose I'll have to owl Potter with the bad luck," she said to herself in a manner reminiscent of her predecessor. "He would have enjoyed the post."


	23. Rapping At My Chamber Door

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**Oh… gah… this chapter… I'm such a nerd.**

Chapter 23: Rapping At My Chamber Door

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,  
Over many a loud and quaking, thunderous noise to sound from o'er,  
While I slithered, jaws a-snapping, suddenly there came a tapping  
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.  
"Tis some visitor," I muttered, "rapping at my chamber door –  
Only this and nothing more."

Louder now the rapping sounding, phat beats pumping, throbbing, pounding,  
I approached the door with caution, felt the music through the floor,  
Ron's voice echoed through my chamber; what, did he not know the danger?  
Slithering closer, I could hear that which I could not hear before…

_Ahhhhhhhh…  
__We need some fangs, basilisk fangs  
__So we can get back to help our gang  
__Harry needs our help, we've got to fly  
__Or the world as we know it will be sky high  
__So I'll wing it a bit, say what Harry said  
__The memories of second year are still in my head  
__Let's see… um… how did it go?  
__Uh, yeah, yeah, hang on a sec… PSFSJFAJGAKSRJAREJ IDFJASRFJAS.  
__**Are you sure about this, Ron?  
**__Hermione, I'm trying to drop a beat here!  
__**Whatever.**_

_This ain't workin' too well, gotta try again  
__But I'll be careful this time, I'll rack my brains  
__That doesn't even rhyme – wait, I'm getting distracted  
__Don't give me that look, girl, you know you're attracted  
__To this sexy pimp with the clear blue eyes –  
__Ow – OW – Hermione - quit it – I was only joking – FINE!  
__TURN OFF THE BEATS!_

As to help these poor sad creatures, I removed my facial features  
Placed them in a small neat pile just around the chamber door  
Went back to my fitful slumber, grateful that their musical number  
Seemed to end; they'd have no nerve to ever face me anymore.  
They shall have the nerve to test me in my chamber… nevermore.

**In case you live under a rock, the normal font is my remix of **_**The Raven**_** by Edgar Allan Poe. The italics are Ron "rapping at the Chamber door", which I had the idea for a while ago when I was reading the poem. Oh, and the bold is Hermione being skeptical. If you want to know what I thought the rap would sound like, go to YouTube and look up "U Down w/OOTP?" by the band Dumbledore. It's great.**


	24. Marauder's Map

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 24: Marauder's Map

Four boys sat by the wall in the Gryffindor Common Room one rainy evening. If anyone saw them at that moment, they would only see the Marauders huddled around an old piece of parchment and pass it off as plans for a new Slytherin prank. But for them, it was a crucially important day in their lives.

"Can we give it a name?" asked a shaggy-haired boy eagerly.

"We're not quite done yet, Padfoot," answered his tired-looking friend sensibly.

"Well, it needs a title, at least!" Padfoot mandated loudly, and the other three boys all shushed him hurriedly.

"I don't see why we even _need_ this thing, guys," the pudgy one said for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, as his comrades all rolled their eyes at him.

"Wormy, we've been caught one time too many," the bespectacled one pointed out. "Tomorrow, we'll be stars; after testing this baby out tonight, we'll have successfully completed a job for the first time this year. I can't believe we've had such foul luck this year."

"Yeah, mate, three months of what _would_ be priceless entertainment down the drain, all because of the stupid prefects," Padfoot agreed, excitedly throwing his hands into the air. They connected, however, with the arm of the boy crouched over the parchment, knocking the quill out of his hand and smearing ink all over his handiwork. The other two boys gasped in theatric horror.

The boy flung the parchment to the ground and buried his face in his hands. "Dammit, Sirius!"

Sirius edged away minutely. "Sorry, Moony."

Moony sighed and stood up, retrieving the parchment from the floor. "I'm going for a walk. I'll see what I can do about _this_."

"I'll come too - " Sirius offered.

"NO." Moony crawled out through the portrait hole.

There was an awkward moment of silence between the remaining Marauders.

"Well," said James. "You really screwed that one up, eh?"

Outside, Moony had slid down the wall a few secret corridors down, and was now peering at the soiled paper. His wand was out and mobile, glowing at the tip as he traced it over the correct lines. He muttered under his breath all the while, and suddenly stopped everything.

Footsteps were heard down the corridor, and he quickly extinguished his wand, flattening himself against the dark wall and praying that the approaching person would walk down the middle of the hall. (Come to think of it, why would anyone be down this way in the first place? The Marauders were the only ones who knew of its existence; they'd had to explore every nook and cranny of the castle for this project to be successful. The only other person who knew about it was Lily Evans, because James had told her in another fit of romantic devotion, to prove that – _oh_.)

Moony crept along the wall quietly but quickly, slipping out the entrance behind a suit of armor, and ran as fast as he could back to the Common Room.

Lily continued her patrol. Her foot brushed against something that rustled. She leaned down and picked it up.

"What the…" She pulled out her wand to see properly what it was, and it lit in time to see someone dart out of the entrance to the hidden corridor. Grateful that she had worn quiet shoes, Lily reached the door and peeked out of it in time to see Remus Lupin running back to the Fat Lady. Her mouth pursed in suspicion.

Now in sufficient light, Lily looked at the parchment she'd stepped on. Other than a smear of green ink, it was easy to see what it was. The markings on it exactly delineated where the holder of the paper was in relation to the grounds of Hogwarts. But what was it for? Lily stuffed it into her pocket and finished her patrol, forgetting about it until the next morning, when she would place it in between the pages of James Potter's copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five._

In the Common Room, James yelled, "WHAT?"

"I'm sorry! It must have fallen off my lap when I stood up to escape!" Remus apologized wildly.

"Oh, sure, _now_ you acknowledge that something's an accident," Sirius chimed in.

"Shut _up_, Padfoot," the others all retorted.

"At least it's only Lily," Wormtail pointed out. The other boys all murmured their agreement, but Sirius and Remus both stopped and looked at each other mid-nod.

A series of head shakes later, Remus addressed James. "Prongs. You have to swear not to tell her."

James looked affronted. "What? Give away one of our biggest secrets just because I love her? What do you guys take me for? You're all loony."

His friends glared at him coolly. "Prongs," Sirius stated. "You told her what kind of underwear we all sport so that she could tell her crazy gossipy friends."

James paused momentarily. "Point taken. You have my word. I'll never, _ever_ tell Lily Evans what that map is, even if she begs."

* * *

"And that's why we needed it."

Lily looked askance at her fiancé. "That is the dumbest reasoning I have ever heard."

James looked up to the heavens and prayed that none of the Marauders would find out what he'd done.

**Have a very Harry Christmas, everyone. *channels Dobby***


	25. Taboo

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 25: Taboo

"I saw you and Daddy kissing."

Ginny Potter straightened up instantly from where she was searching for the good Christmas dishes in the cupboard. With a bewildered expression on her face, she turned to see James standing behind her.

"What?"

"Last night, I was going to see wh… never mind. Anyway, I went downstairs and _you and Daddy were kissing! _Under a mistletoe. I thought Auntie Luna said those had marbles in them?"

"Nargles, dear." Ginny shook her head at herself; why did she acknowledge Luna's wild theories again?

"It was naughty of you," James said, smiling impishly and showing his missing front teeth. "I'm going to tell Santa."

_Ooh, what a threat, _Ginny thought. "You know, Jamie, other people have kissed besides Daddy and me," she informed her eldest son.

"Like who?" James asked suspiciously.

Ginny looked around the room for a victim, Christmas party in full swing. "Well," she leaned down to whisper confidentially, "Auntie Hermione once snogged Viktor Krum."

James' eyes went so wide they might have fallen out. "VIKTOR KR - "

Ginny clapped a hand over his mouth. "But you mustn't let Uncle Ron hear you say anything about it. Got it?" James nodded, and Ginny removed her hand. Her son darted off somewhere, and she delved back into the cupboard.

"AUNTIE HERMIONE, DID YOU REALLY KISS VIKTOR KRUM?"

Ginny gasped and bashed her head on the top of the cupboard. Wincing, she looked out to see Ron's eyes wide as he stomped over to where James stood with Hermione.

Hermione crouched down to James' level. "_Run, Jamie,_" she hissed, and they both immersed themselves in the crowd.

"What did you _tell_ him?" Harry asked his wife as he jogged over to his best friend, in order to prevent him from breaking anything of theirs.

Ginny just smirked and began to divide the cheeses.


	26. Rematch

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**I'm on a mission.**

**I don't do New Years' Resolutions. I do My Ten Goals. And one of those goals is to write a fanfic a day. For the whole year. You see what I do for you people? I do have other fics-in-progress, as well as oneshot ideas I need to enact, so the updates won't all be on this fic (obviously, as it's the third already).**

**You might find this subject matter a bit… familiar. *evil smirk***

Chapter 26: Rematch

"You can't be serious!"

"Oh, but I am," Sirius Black assured. "And _no_, that's not supposed to be a joke," he added, but Remus' countenance was steady.

"I didn't actually think he'd stoop that low," Remus mused.

"Yeah, well, he did," Sirius rebutted. Remus gave his friend a "duh" look.

"It's a bit unoriginal," Remus continued. "Why would he tell the school you're gay _again?_"

"He's losing his touch," Sirius realized, and began to pace the dormitory. "Something's not the same."

"Well, he _has_ been a bit off since Lily refused him for the first Hogsmeade trip." Sirius and Remus both paused after the latter's statement, dramatically turning toward each other until their looks locked. A devilish gleam came into Sirius' eyes. Remus' widened.

"What are you going to do _this_ time?" he asked resignedly.

"I'll let you know when I've figured it out," Sirius declared, grabbing his outer robe and dashing out the door and down the stairs. "Thanks bunches, Moony."

"No… problem?"

"What was that about?" Peter asked as he entered the dorm. "Pad just ran past like his tail was on fire."

"Trust me, mate," Remus replied, "you don't want to know."

"Evans!" they both heard through the open door from the Common Room below. "Oh, EVANS!"

"Oh, Merlin, Padfoot's singsonging again," Peter groaned. He and Remus dashed down the spiral stairs to find out what Sirius was up to.

As they hopped down the last few steps, James simultaneously waltzed through the portrait hole. Remus and Peter watched in amusement as James' eyes locked onto Lily's form, seated on the couch next to… Sirius?

Sirius looked up, saw James begin to approach the poor object of his stalking, and immediately grabbed Lily's face and kissed her.

Wait – _what?_

The whole of Gryffindor House gasped (even those not in the common room – they had developed a sense for when someone violated James' tolerance level of proximity to Lily). The silence was deafening as Sirius stood up, wiped his mouth, and said loudly, "Proof, once and for all, that I AM NOT GAY." Every pair of eyes watched him as he strode over to the girls' staircase and climbed it effortlessly.

This sudden ability to infiltrate the girls' dorms was paltry, however, to what everyone had just witnessed. Remus and Peter's mouths hung agape, much like half everyone else's. First and second years dashed out of the portrait hole or up their respective stairs, unsure of how violent James Potter was going to become.

James himself stared out the window, for he had just seen a figure swoop out of a higher window on a top-of-the-line broom that only one person but himself would have been able to afford. With a growl, he tore across the room and banged the Fat Lady open. She smacked the other wall, but her shrill "JAMES POTTER! Return to face me THIS INSTANT!" was drowned out by James' voice, yelling, "Don't worry, Evans! I'll get him for this one!" Lily rolled her eyes and turned back to the rest of her house.

"Anyone know how Black got up those stairs? I'm quite curious."

**NO, THIS IS NOT REMUS/SIRIUS. As most of you probably know, I am slavishly, almost obscenely faithful to The Canon, so I also tried to make it a point that I do not think that Pettigrew was just a bumbling idiot. He has brains, and he **_**had**_** loyalty. The other boys didn't just take pity on him and include him in their group of awesome. He obviously had redeeming qualities, but simply used them for self-preservation in the end, rather than for honorability.**

**Anyway. I could rant on for days about canon and how I seem to be able to relate to every character ever created. But I'll spare you – unless you're curious.**


	27. Pop Star

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 27: Pop Star

The bloody television was on again, and Rose was planted in front of it, as every Saturday. Hermione Weasley strode past the living room through the hallway, but then doubled back to see her daughter watching, riveted, as her favorite show played.

"Rosie," she called, and her daughter turned.

"Yes, Mummy?"

"It's time for lunch. Please go and wake up your brother so you two can wash up."

"Oh, but _Mum_ - " Rose began to protest – her favorite show, after all, had just turned on – but Hermione held up her finger.

"Please do as I tell you, dear."

Defeated, Rose slumped down the hall to Hugo's room, where a tremendous banging could be heard. Hermione, satisfied, resumed her path to the kitchen.

"Oi, what's all this thumping about?" Ron Weasley poked his head out of the office, and was immediately blasted with the words of a certain theme song that had been left playing.

_You get the limo out front_

_Hottest styles, every shoe, every colour_

Bewildered, Ron walked to the telly, taking in the gaudy colours and noises emanating from it. It was a particularly loud show, whatever it was. Rose groaned from down the hall, ired at missing her favorite program.

A girl pranced around a stage as Ron watched. Slowly, his head cocked to the side, and an almost disgusted look took place on his face.

Hermione joined him, a dishtowel in her hands. "What's the telly still doing on?" Noticing her husband's strange look, she changed the subject. "What's wrong, Ron?"

Ron's head tilted the opposite direction, and he pointed at the screen. He _knew_ something had struck him as odd about that singing girl. Hermione's gaze followed his pointing finger, and her eyes widened as well when she took in the grisly sight on screen.

"Is that – " she asked in awe.

"I think it is," Ron breathed in turn.

"But how is that possible?" Hermione replied. "I thought she had died… wait. You don't think your mum – "

"She's good enough to," Ron disagreed. "She might be barmy, but she'd never actually _kill_ anyone."

"Which means…" Hermione trailed off, and both pairs of eyes turned once again to the television.

"Bellatrix Lestrange was turned into Hannah Montana?"

"Dumbledore was right," Hermione breathed, eyes still glued to the television. "There are things worse than death."


	28. Harder Than Anticipated

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 28: Harder Than Anticipated [That's What She Said.]

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Why have you purchased a computer?"

Her husband looked up from where he was positioned in front of the old, unused outlet. He was, indeed, holding the monitor of a computer.

"Well, you see," he began, and Ginny sensed a long-winded tale coming along, "I've been getting a lot of messages at work."

"How is that different from your usual job?" Ginny asked, but Harry didn't respond to her question.

"Apparently, a lot of people have been hearing rumours of my soon-to-be-published biography," he went on. Ginny raised her eyebrows. Harry saw her bemused expression and assured, "It's not true. But I figure… well, I might as well give my fans what they want."

"Have you been spending much time with Dennis Creevey lately?" Ginny asked offhandedly.

"Yeah, I have, actually. Why?"

"No reason."

Ginny Disapparated minutes later to retrieve Albus from the Scamanders' house, leaving Harry alone to assemble his computer.

Feeling rather proud of himself for remembering how to set up a computer from when Uncle Vernon had forced/supervised him when he was nine and Dudley got his first one, Harry pressed the "On" button. A whirring noise came from the computer, and he threw his hands up in victory, yelling, "YESSSSSSSS!"

"Daddy?"

Harry stopped mid-celebration, mouth still hanging open. Lily stood in the doorway of his newly-proclaimed office.

"What are you doing?"

"…Nothing."

A pop was heard, and Lily ran off to greet her mother and brother, and Harry Potter sat down to begin what were sure to be the most fascinating memoirs in the world.

* * *

A while later, though Harry didn't know how long for sure, someone knocked on the door. Harry jumped.

"Harry, are you alright in there? It's been two days." Ginny sounded worried enough, but with the added edge of exasperation. The door opened, and Harry held his hands up against the offending light. "How's the biography coming?"

Harry turned back to the computer screen, pallidly lighting his face. The purely white document gave him a migraine.

"I see it's, er… coming along," his wife commented, having leant over his shoulder to see his progress. She was almost smacked in the face as Harry threw his hands in the air.

"How does Rolf _do_ it?"

"…Do what?"

"Write all those travel journals!" Harry yelled back, grabbing one of Rolf Scamander's sequels to his grandfather's bestselling _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_.

"Why don't you ask him?" Ginny said cheekily, closing the door on her husband. "I'll be back in five with some food," she added from the hall.

Harry turned back to his blank screen. _Who knew writing your own life story could be so hard?_ he thought desperately before finally banging his head on the keyboard in defeat. His wife would return to see the man of such esteem crying into the keys.


	29. Former Formal Fiasco

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 29: Former Formal Fiasco

"Professor?"

Padma Patil, newly instated Head of Ravenclaw House at Hogwarts, looked up from the papers she was in the midst of grading. "What is it, Rose, dear?"

The young Weasley girl felt completely at ease with the new History of Magic assistant, even though she wasn't in Padma's house; her parents still associated with the Patil girls and their other former classmates at parties and as part of their jobs. "Could I talk to you about something… serious?"

"Of course," Padma said, motioning to the chair in front of her own. Rose gratefully sat down. "I think I already know what you're going to ask."

Rose gave Padma a surprised look.

"Well, it's no surprise that Professor McGonagall felt a dance was overdue, after how splendidly the Yule Ball of '94 went all those years ago…" Padma trailed off, reminiscing.

"Why are you making that face?"

"Face? What face?" Padma rearranged her expression quickly; her memories of that dance were far from enjoyable.

"Never mind." Rose shifted in her chair a bit, and then finally blurted out, "D'you think it'd be improper for me to ask a boy? Instead of him asking me?"

"Ooh, who are you thinking of?" Padma asked, the young girl of her Hogwarts days reemerging at once.

Rose shook her head vehemently. "No, I don't want to say!"

Padma chuckled to herself, as she already knew who Rose had in mind.

"I'm just afraid," Rose admitted. "Afraid he'll say no, or that I'll not be able to attend the ball in the first place, or that we'll have a rubbish time - "

"Hold your hippogriffs," Padma interrupted her young student. "Nothing, and I repeat, _nothing_, could possibly be as bad as my Yule Ball."

"Really?" Rose sounded interested. "What happened?" she asked eagerly.

"The boy who took me dressed poorly, had a crush on another girl, and refused to dance with me the whole night."

"Wow." Rose's eyebrows were raised. "Why'd you even go with him? He sounds terrible!"

"Oh, I didn't have a date, and my sister was going with my date's best friend." Padma shrugged, huffing through her nose irritably at the realisation that this might happen to another poor girl this time. Damn McGonagall's newly acquired sense of not-so-well-mannered frivolity.

Padma snapped back to the now, and saw that Rose had stood up. "Thanks, Professor," she said gratefully. "I think I will ask him; nothing beats your poor luck that night."

"Anytime."

Rose made her way out the door, but before she closed it, she turned back. "One last question, Professor…"

"Yes?"

"Who was your date?"

Padma smirked, imagining Rose's reaction, as a bit of a daddy's girl, to the information that her date, so long ago, was Ron Weasley himself.

"Trust me, it's better if I don't tell you."


	30. Fishing

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 30: Fishing

"Hello?"

"Dean? This is Harry."

"Harry, how are you, mate?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Listen, Ron and I have been sitting around with nothing to do, it being the week of our summer holiday, and our wives have been, ah… trying to force us to, and I quote, 'get off our stubborn lazy arses.' Then Ginny had the bright idea that we should call you and Seamus to see if you'd like to go fishing."

"Sure, I suppose. I'm not doing much either, and Maureen's been getting a bit testy with me as well. I'll ring Seamus and tell him. You know what would be interesting?"

"Fire away."

"What if we tried it out the Muggle way? It would keep us out of doors a lot longer, and I really do need the sun…"

Ron listened in to Harry's end of the conversation a few moments longer, until his best friend placed the rarely-used phone back into its cradle.

"So?"

"Find Hermione's old Muggle Studies book, Ron," Harry replied, feeling rather foolish that he didn't know the fundamentals himself; "we need to find out what one uses to fish the Muggle way."

* * *

Two hours later, the four old friends set off from shore, paddling pathetically in a small boat. Hermione and Ginny waved them off from the shore, trying not to let surface the laughter they were holding back.

In silence, the men reached the exact center of the lake, using Harry's obsessive calculations and map.

"Right, men, let's get to it," Harry said, standing up gingerly to retrieve the equipment. Seamus used no such precautions and fell out of the boat and into the lake. The rest were all used to these kind of mishaps, as they had been acquainted with the man for longer than thirty minutes.

Silence again fell upon the group as they all held poles insecurely.

"So…" Ron said after a moment or two of befuddlement, "who knows how to fish?"

**Men are stupid. However, wizarding men are **_**lovably **_**so. It makes a difference.**


	31. This Is Your Life

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO LILY EVANS POTTER!1!111! She is 50, as of today, January 30. What a milestone. I love you, Lily.**

Chapter 31: This Is Your Life

"Welcome, sir," the guard greeted Harry James Potter, a look of reverence on his face as he stepped away to let the guest of honor by.

"'Sup," Harry replied loquaciously, strolling past with his hands stuffed into his pockets. "Whoa," he gasped, upon seeing a rather enormous tapestry hanging from the ceiling, blatantly showcasing his face, smiling broadly.

"Not bad, eh?" Ron commented, approaching his best friend with a glass of Ogden's in hand. "'This is your life,'" he quoted from the banner hanging above the tapestry in the Ministry atrium. "'An event in honor of the saviour of the wizarding world, Harry John Potter.'" Ron turned to smile appraisingly at Harry, but did a double-take. "Wait, what?"

"My name's not Harry John, it's Harry James," Harry said in confusion.

"I know, mate. Someone must have misinformed them."

"Mister Potter!"

The men turned to see a short reporter skittering toward them, quill and pad in hand. "Yes?"

"How are you, sir?" the reporter squeaked. Without waiting for a response, he went on, "M'name's Alfred, sir, Alfred Johnson. I'm Angelina's kid brother."

"Really?" Ron asked.

"It's nice to meet you," Harry said sincerely, proffering his hand, but Alfred Johnson was too busy preparing his quill to notice.

"How do you think your life would have been if your parents, Lois and Jack, hadn't died when you were three?"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other in bewilderment. "Nah, mate, you've got it wrong," Ron said slowly.

"Yeah, my parents died when I was one," Harry added. "And their names are Lily and James. Like my middle name, which is not John like that banner says."

Alfred Johnson looked up sharply to the guest of honor. "Your middle name is Lily?" he asked incredulously.

Harry's eyes widened. "No!" he said in surprise.

"Mister Potter!" Another reporter had approached. "Why did the Dark Lord decide to single you out all those years ago?" she asked quickly and sharply. "Was it because your parents were Squibs, and he was trying to create a pureblood world, with his pristine bloodline at the center?"

"What – no!" Harry responded, surprised again. "Voldemort was a half-blood, and my parents were both magical. Well, my mum was Muggle_born_, but she still went to Hogwarts." The lady furrowed her brow and flipped backward through her pad, evidently in pursuit of some evidence of this information.

"When's your wedding, Mister Potter?" another Propheteer inquired.

This was the most baffling of all. Harry blinked silently for a few moments, then shook his head vigorously and asked, "_What?_"

The reporter looked back at Harry levelly. "Your upcoming marriage to a Miss Romilda Vane. You see, she's my cousin, and she's told us all about it."

"_What?_" Ron repeated, a look of disgust on his face, but Harry didn't hear it. He'd simply turned around and made his way to the wide wooden doors, fully intending on being nowhere near the party that was due to begin in two hours or so.


	32. At Wit's End

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**Oh my gosh, you guys. I've reached 10,000 hits on this fic. I'm so ridiculously excited right now. Thank you SO MUCH!**

Chapter 32: At Wit's End

Peter tripped over the threshold of the dormitory, creating a resounding _THUD!_

James, who was eating Bertie Bott's while hanging upside-down from his bed, yelped and fell onto his head. Sirius dashed out from the bathroom to see what had happened. Remus merely looked up from his Transfiguration homework and sighed; evidently, this afternoon's serenity was over.

"Merlin, Wormy," James complained, righting himself and rubbing his head with a grimace. "You've really got to learn how to walk sometime."

"It _is_ a high threshold, Prongs," Remus allowed, and Peter grunted in assent, getting to his feet.

"You've just got…" Sirius trailed off. "That was like… er…" A look of horror overtook his face.

"What's up, Pad?"

"Wait, wait – I've got it – gimme a minute…" Sirius' eyes widened with every attempt to make a joke about Peter's ungainliness.

James chuckled. "Rat got your tongue, Pads?" Remus snorted into his pumpkin juice.

"This can't be happening!" Sirius yelled, and dashed over to the door, pushing Peter to the side. "I'm going to the library!" he declared, and his friends' brows furrowed. "Don't move until I come back with a good one!"

"Aren't you going to put on a shirt?" Remus hollered out the open door, but Sirius was already down two flights of stairs.

"I'll do it later!" came up the stairwell, muffled by the sounds of some third year girls who had caught sight of him. Remus chuckled and went back to his homework.


	33. Motherly Instinct

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

**Don't watch the Percy Jackson movie. That's all I'm sayin'.**

Chapter 33: Motherly Instinct

Lily Potter had a baby.

And she hated it.

James was the first to hold him, because he had been standing up and all, so he was the first thing Harry saw, and the baby seemed to want this pattern to continue, for every time Lily would pick her son up, he would cry, and she would have to hand him over to her husband in distaste.

But she wasn't quite sure anymore. This week, Harry had become less colicky, and he touched her hair a lot (you have to touch it to pull on it) when she held him.

Maybe it had all been a phase, Lily thought. Maybe all babies favored their fathers early on, and then grew to love their mothers.

Harry spit up on her shirt and began to shriek.

No, Lily thought. It just can't stand me.


	34. Fellytone

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 34: Fellytone

Arthur Weasley gazed perplexedly at the many buttons atop his newly purchased telephone. His thirteen-year-old son Ron did the same across the table.

"All right, son," Arthur began, feeling somewhat like he was kicking off an conspiratorial arms deal (which he was, in a way; the telephone had been snuck into the already-packed shed in the yard and painstakingly installed), "you have the call number?"

Ron held up the little piece of paper. "Got it."

"One more thing." Arthur peered out the window overlooking the yard of the Burrow. There was no one out there. "Go on."

Ron leaned in to the telephone and pushed the first number.

_Boop._

Father and son both leapt back. "It beeped!" Ron gasped in surprise. "…Why did it beep?"

Arthur put a hand over his wildly beating heart. "I believe… it's supposed to do that."

"Oh."

Ron poked in the remaining digits and held the receiver gingerly to his ear. "Now, remember to speak clearly, son," Arthur advised, and Ron nodded. A click was heard, and then –

"Vernon Dursley speaking."

Ron yelled, "HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I – WANT – TO – TALK – TO – HARRY – POTTER!"

Arthur gave his son a thumbs-up. They'd have no trouble understanding him on the other end.

"WHO IS THIS? WHO ARE YOU?" Harry's uncle yelled back, just as clearly as Ron. This phone call was going better than expected; Ron was doing just the right thing.

"RON – WEASLEY! I'M – A- FRIEND – OF- HARRY'S – FROM – SCHOOL - "

"THERE IS NO HARRY POTTER HERE! I DON'T KNOW WHAT SCHOOL YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON'T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!"

Ron dropped the receiver violently, intent on repeating the furious click he'd just heard.

"Good job, son," Arthur commended. "We should try to phone that Hermione girl next."


	35. Potions with Colin

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 35: Potions with Colin

Another year, another migraine.

Worse still, Severus Snape's first class of 1992 was with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first-years. _Why not just make me consume my own liver? It would grow back_, Snape thought as he approached the door of his classroom.

Hand met doorknob, and the door opened, but no one noticed their professor standing in the frame, for they were all too busy raucously laughing at something a particularly puny boy had just uttered.

Colin Creevey, seated in the front row, displayed the largest grin of everyone there. "And I heard," he said – obviously the one who had been talking this entire time – "I heard that our teacher's called 'Snape'. Funny name, innit? It's like snap – with an 'e'!" Creevey dissolved into snaps, joined by the rest of the class.

The clicking became rather irksome to Severus Snape, still silhouetted in the doorframe. With a _slam!_ he swung the door shut and proceeded back in the direction of his office.

_Perhaps I shouldn't have given up drinking._


	36. You'll Shoot Your Eye Out

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong…**

Chapter 36: You'll Shoot Your Eye Out

"Mad-Eye, you coming?" Proudfoot shouted over the noise of seven Death Eaters grumbling and clanking their chains.

Mad-Eye Moody grunted. He was getting too old for this, and had dozed off momentarily, but there was no way Proudfoot was going to find that out. If he wanted to live, that is.

"One moment," Moody called to Proudfoot and the other Junior Aurors, pointedly bumping into a few of the captured Death Eaters "by accident". With a satisfied smirk, Moody climbed into the fireplace, but before he accepted the handful of Floo powder, he stuck his wand haphazardly into his back pocket.

_SHAZAM!_

"Mad-Eye, what's up?"

Moody wished he could turn around so he could pull a pained face, but that would have been even worse, as his left buttock had suddenly vanished.

"Nothing."


	37. For the Love of Michelle

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 37: For the Love of Michelle

James Potter had invited his newest and most serious girlfriend to eat dinner with his family, along with her mother. Naturally, Ginny Potter wanted information.

"How long have you been dating her now?" she asked her eldest son as she took the turkey out of the oven.

"About a year, Mum."

"And why haven't I met her yet?" Ginny questioned further, tousling her son's hair.

"Because I'm afraid that if I bring her over, Dad or Albus will say something stupid and turn things… interesting," James confessed, eyeing the archway into the living room, where the two women would be Apparating.

"Don't worry, I've trained them to not act like wild boars just for you tonight," Ginny assured James. "Now, what did you say her last name was?"

James opened his mouth to answer her, but a _pop!_ could be heard through the archway, and he and his mother dashed to meet Michelle's family.

"Potter?" they both heard before they were halfway across the dining room. "You didn't tell me you were dating the Potters' son."

Cho Chang stepped into the doorway, an elbow linked with her daughter's. She and Ginny made eye contact.

Ginny turned her gaze to her son's, silently imparting _Oh, yes, things will get very interesting indeed._


	38. Sorry I Asked

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 38: Sorry I Asked

On the way to Potions, dearest Neville Longbottom passed his friend Luna Lovegood, and, ever polite, he felt it only second nature to say hello.

Waving, he called, "Hey, Luna! How are you?"

"Oh, hello, Neville," Luna replied, falling into step beside him. "My day's not been too great, thanks for asking. I think I might be harbouring some pests again; they may have stowed away in the package Dad sent me yesterday. Naturally, everyone has their mish-mosh days, but mine generally only happen when the wanglesgrout has lodged itself up my nose again."

Neville, horrorstruck, flushed under the scrutiny of so many confused glances as Luna babbled on.


	39. You've Got Mail

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 39: You've Got Mail

"Ginny, dear, could you retrieve Errol?" Mrs. Weasley called from the ironing board. Usually she'd have Ron do it, but… well, Ronald had left the nest. Next it would be her youngest.

But best not to dwell upon the future till it arrived.

Ginny had dashed out to the garden, the telltale _thwack!_ against the window alerting the family to Errol's belated arrival. After searching the bushes for a few moments, the disheveled owl had been located.

"Now where's your package?" Ginny muttered to herself, moving from the side of the house to the front. A wide brown package came into sight, and Ginny pounced for it.

_For Ginny,_ the label read, and without bothering to go inside, she unwrapped it eagerly, some of the paper falling upon poor Errol.

Molly Weasley dashed to the window upon hearing a noise that sounded somewhat hysterical, only to find her daughter in stitches. A toilet seat lay on the ground next to a squirming Errol.


	40. BFFLs :D

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 40: BFFLs :D

In the Chamber of Secrets, Tom Riddle waited.

Pacing about the underground labyrinth had been his only occupation for months, apart from conversing with the basilisk. (He'd named him "Snakey.") But Snakey, in his devotion to Riddle, was rather tiresome to listen to.

"_Master_," Snakey would hiss, attempting to lay his massive head in Riddle's lap (Tom would always leap up before his legs were crushed), "_Master, time to kill… to rip for you…"_

And, "_No,_" Riddle would command, "_not yet. We must bide our time, my friend… bide and wait…"_

But Snakey was out catching himself sewer mice, and Riddle was tired of waiting. How was he to know when Potter had hold of the diary? There had to be some –

_FOOM._

A gush of scarlet ink materialised in thin air, and before Riddle had time to process, he was drenched in bright red.

Snakey slithered into the Chamber, having heard the inksplosion. "_Master! A sign?_"

Riddle spat out a river of ink and saliva, dripping onto the stone floor. "_I utterly DESPISE HARRY POTTER!_"

Snakey wiggled his body in a sort of I Hate Harry Potter, Too, Master dance.


	41. Naughty Professor

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 41: Naughty Professor

The young Gryffindors had not yet entered the Great Hall for breakfast the morning of the first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. For that matter, no one was in the Hall.

Perfect.

Horace Slughorn tiptoed his way to the Gryffindor table, choosing to ignore the jiggling of his belly as he ineffectively snuck in. Peering surreptitiously to the right and the left, he uncorked a flask from his pocket and dispersed it into every single pitcher on the long table. After all, he had no way of knowing Ronald Weasley's drink preferences; he was a busy man.

Students began to filter in from the entrance hall, and Slughorn observed from the staff table as Harry Potter gave his friend some pumpkin juice.

Maybe once Potter was in good spirits after the match, he'd be more willing to come to the Slug Club party, Slughorn mused with a satisfied smile.

**I really just thought it was uncanny that Gryffindor **_**really **_**had so many good elements going for them the day of the match.**


	42. Unconventional

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

**Happy Deathly Hallows Day, all. I am OVER THE MOON. Three beautiful years have passed. I'm sort of amazed that the majority of us keep on breathing and stuff, when Harry Potter's been over THAT LONG.**

Chapter 42: Unconventional

Albus Dumbledore slid the blindfold over his eyes, blindly searching the surface of his desk. A small prick on the finger indicated the location of the items in question.

Aiming carefully, Dumbledore let a dart fly from his hand, belatedly hoping he was facing the proper direction. A dull _thud_ let him know that it had actually struck true. Surprised, Dumbledore lifted the cloth blindfold.

A chuckle escaped his lips. The dart had struck in the dead center of the dartboard, giving the impression that James Potter's nose was rather longer than it was in actuality. The photo glared up in alarm at his headmaster, bewildered at the new feature of a dart in its nose.

"And he was the least qualified candidate, too," Dumbledore mused, grinning around at the now-sulking prefects and top students ringing the extremities of the dartboard.

**Always knew there had to be some logical reason James Potter got the Head Boy position when he hadn't even been a prefect.**

**So, yeah, in case you didn't get that (which you most likely did not), Dumbledore put the least-likely seventh-year boys on a dartboard (classy, Dumbledore, classy) and just chose who would be appointed via dart. The ladies at least got a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. XD**


	43. Interpretation

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 43: Interpretation

"It is for all of these reasons I regretfully express my intent to leave the school in your capable hands," Salazar concluded his speech, clutching his staff firmly and fighting to keep his balance.

Godric, Helga, and Rowena all stared blankly up at him. Godric finally came to his senses and said, "…What?"

"Dear Salazar," kind Helga stood up to grasp his forearms, "we can care for you here. Avail yourself of our services, I beseech you!"

"Salazar is in the right, Helga," Rowena spoke softly. Salazar nodded his thanks to her. "After the accident, he could hardly work. He needs recuperation."

"That makes it sound like he'll be coming back," Godric pointed out, the last to stand from his seat. Salazar and Godric looked into each other's eyes firmly for a beat, until Godric broke the gaze. He stepped forward and extended his hand. "Fair fortune be with you, my old friend."

Salazar grasped it. "What's this?" he joked, shaking their clasped hands and prolonging the exchange. "Godric Gryffindor, letting me leave without a fight?"

Helga was silently sobbing, Rowena patting her stoically.

"I wish I could," Godric finally relinquished his hand, and it hung awkwardly at his side. He joked back, "It really is a very ignoble thing to do, sir. What will the public say about loyal Gryffindor's best friend having to leave Hogwarts School over an injury?"

Salazar smiled, embraced Helga and Rowena one last time, magicked his bags into the air, and took his leave of the beautiful castle, never to see his dearest friends again.

* * *

Upon passing the smithy the next day, Salazar heard his own name. He surreptitiously slipped underneath his invisibility cloak.

"That's what I heard! Slytherin left Hogwarts!"

"But why would he do that, Balder?"

"He finally cracked under all his blood prejudices," Balder replied knowledgeably. "Heard it from Gryffindor himself; he was at my pub last night." Salazar could feel Balder's ego inflating.

"No! You jest!"

"I do no such thing!"

"What happened, then?"

"There was a battle," Balder described. "But neither man had his wand on him, so tables were overturned, blows were thrown, and Slytherin came out on top. So Gryffindor had to let him go, didn't he?"

"Gryffindor? Strong, burly Gryffindor?"

Salazar was about to walk off, satisfied with and touched by Godric's rumourmongering, but Balder said something else that made him stop.

"_Honest_ Gryffindor," Balder corrected. "Besides, Slytherin could've sat his basilisk on him, couldn't he?"

He _knew_ that he'd forgotten something.


	44. A Day at Dudley's

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 44: A Day at Dudley's

The doorbell rang at 4 Privet Drive, and Dudley Dursley made to answer it, as that's what one does when the bell rings.

"Uncle Dudley!" A chorus of young voices reached his ears, and as the Potter kids swarmed in the doorway, Dudley reached over their heads to shake his cousin Harry's hand.

"How are you, mate?" Dudley asked warmly, and James, Albus, and Lily pushed past him to greet their aunt, but more importantly, her cookies.

"I'm great; Ginny's great, too," Harry chatted amiably. "Listen, would you mind if one of the kids' friends stayed for the afternoon as well? My godson, Teddy? He's ten, a few years older than James, and his father was my dad's best friend. If you can't, that's fine; he can just go back to his grandmother's."

Dudley peeked around the doorframe; a small figure could be seen inside the car parked in the driveway. "I don't see why not," he agreed. "Bring him in!"

"Great!" Harry went back to the car and brought young Teddy out.

"I'll be back by four, Ted," he told the boy as Teddy stepped over the threshold into the Dursleys' house. "Don't have too much fun, now."

"Great, thanks, Uncle Harry!" Teddy called as Harry walked away with a nod to Dudley, and his hair turned from mousy brown to vivid purple.

Dudley froze as though a rabbit caught in a hunter's sights, and Teddy finally got a glimpse of his host and froze in turn.

"You – your hair - " Dudley spluttered, still not having quite gotten over his innate fear of transformative magic.

Teddy squeaked, "You… you're so large, sir!"

And they both fainted straightaway.

Some things never change.

**Those things being Dudley's fear of magic, and Dudley's size, specifically.**


	45. More Lily Misinterpretation

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 45: More Lily Misinterpretation

"Hey, isn't it almost time for - " Lily stopped dead in the door, where she had been riffling through papers.

James looked around in a panic, his neck being a bit… ravaged at the moment by a mystery Hufflepuff.

"Never mind," Lily picked up, voice a little higher-pitched than normal, to keep from laughing. "I'll just - " snort – "be going…" The door slammed.

Lily had to prop herself up on the wall to prevent herself from falling over, and she slapped her knee multiple times.

The door was flung open again. "Lily!" James yelled, looking both ways with a wild look in his eyes. "LILY! Li- " He spotted her, and her laughter had subdued enough to give her the composure to walk away calmly. She proceeded to do so, heart lighter than a cloud.

"Lily, it wasn't what it looked like, I swear," James blustered, trying to keep up with her springy pace. "Honestly, it - "

"Oh, it's quite alright, Potter," Lily cut him off, flashing him a genuine smile for possibly the first time. Of course, it could have been the mania talking. "You've got yourself a girl, now you can move on with your life!" She fought not to stamp her feet in giddy glee.

"No, you don't understand," James pressed. "Margaret – she just _threw_ herself at me!"

"Go on," Lily shooed James, not paying attention to a word he was saying. "Have a nice life. ALICE! MARY! I CAN GET A BOYFRIEND NOW!" she shrieked to her friends at the end of the hall, running to them.

James glared at her back. "Like hell you can," he muttered, plots already forming in his head.

**I think this is the last of the James-Fails Saga. I **_**think**_**. I kinda hope. I need some new ideas. XP**


	46. Peaky

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 46: Peaky

That boy was looking at Ginny again. Molly's eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

Yes, she viewed Harry as another of her own, cared about him deeply, and worried about his health from time to time, but if her instincts were right, the romance situation in this house was about to get out of hand. Ron was clearly mooning over Hermione, Fred and George were attracting a lot more attention now with their shop and riches, and don't even get her started on Bill and _that woman_ –

Enough was enough. Everyone already knew about Ginny's long-time crush on the bespectacled boy, and Molly wasn't stupid. If it was ever reciprocated and Harry ended up breaking her daughter's heart, there was no telling what the state of his body might be when they found him in a ditch.

"Harry, dear," Molly called, snapping out of it. "Honestly, you boys and your Quidditch. One would think you didn't have any time to eat!"

Honestly, all of the young men in the house (who were now looking quite askance at her for her smothering) had filled out nicely from the exertion over the years, but her plan wouldn't work any other way.

"Come on into the kitchen; I've got some treacle tart, your favourite." She ushered him through the door.

"Wow, thanks, Mrs. Weasley!" Harry smiled warmly at her. _Yes, I'll fatten you up, you little blighter, Ginny won't ever want you again – _"What would I do without you?"

"Oh, I'm sure I don't know," Molly replied jovially, forcing the manic glint from her eye so as not to arouse suspicion.

**Can't you just imagine, though? She's trying to fatten him up so he'll no longer be attractive. Such a Mrs. Weasley thing to do.**


	47. Mum

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 47: Mum

Ginny's broom sped past orange blurs and her fellow green Holyhead Harpies players. The Seeker, Ella Roberts, cheered her on as she blasted past everyone else, on a beeline for the Cannons' goalposts.

_Ron __won__'__t __be __happy __with __me __at __all,_ she thought smugly as the Quaffle sailed just past the Keeper's outstretched fingers, bringing the match to 210-60, in the Harpies' favour.

"And that's 210-60, everybody, what a match this is turning out to be!" Lee Jordan called from the stands. The British and Irish League had hired him almost straight out of his training, upon hearing how hilarious he could be and with the stunning recommendation from Professor McGonagall.

"Who would've thought?" Harry muttered under his breath, Lily's shoe digging into his hip as he held her at his side. His two-year-old daughter was growing up to look like Ginny so quickly.

"Daddy! Daddy! Is it time yet?" James tugged on his pant leg, his missing front teeth showing.

"Sure," Harry replied, putting down Lily and handing signs to his three kids. Glancing up in the air, it seemed that the game was at a good place to somewhat disrupt it. "One, two, three!" All four of the Potters hoisted their signs into the air.

"And in the stands, the Potters seem to be – oh, how sweet," Lee Jordan announced. Ginny looked around at her husband and kids.

Harry was holding a sign that said "GO", and James, Albus, and Lily held "M", "U", and "M", respectively.

Ginny felt a surge of love for her family, but too soon, because a Bludger rammed into her elbow from behind.

Furious and in pain, Ginny zoomed off again, glaring daggers at a sheepish Harry. He would be getting an earful when they got home.


	48. Trick Step

**When Things Go Slightly Wrong**

Chapter 48: Trick Step

Professor Neville Longbottom was on duty tonight.

It wasn't that he disliked patrolling the castle, or working with this year's Head Boy and Girl – he just had a lot on his mind, as with most nights he had patrol.

Okay, so he didn't like night patrolling.

Brave though he may have been in the war, that was all for self-preservation. He really had always been more sweet than scary, though he tried to sprinkle both traits equally into his lessons. He was quite a beloved professor; his reputation preceded him. His popularity had spiked ever since Teddy Lupin and the ensuing, equally famous Weasley cousins had come to Hogwarts, for he talked to them not just as their teacher, but as their personal friend. And it didn't hurt that once he had come into himself and had to be a leader in his seventh year, his timidity had lapsed into a mere reservedness, and even that had fallen away eventually. His instatement as the Head of Gryffindor House ten years ago brought him even closer to his students, and the Gryffindors all tended to call him "chill," whatever that was supposed to mean. He and Professor McGonagall became closer than ever when he became the Herbology professor, and all of these factors coalesced into a person Neville had never thought he'd become. He was confident, experienced, and comfortable with himself.

And he was still creeped out by the dark.

He had lived in this castle for over half of his life, had talked to almost all of the portraits in it, and yet he still didn't like walking past all of the frames, for they were often empty. It felt ominous.

So preoccupied was he with these thoughts of keeping the encroaching darkness and loneliness away (some Head of Gryffindor, he chided himself) that he didn't even notice when he turned onto the fourth-floor staircase that had so plagued him in his school days. Out of nowhere, he plunged forward, his foot trapped in midair.

"Merlin's balls!"

Roxanne Weasley would find him in this state some hours later, when the sun had come up, and he would bribe her not to let word of the incident get out to anyone… especially her uncles.

Professor McGonagall was still smirking when Neville hobbled stiffly into breakfast.

"Say anything and you get to mend the damage to my nether regions," Neville grumbled. The students in the Hall were bewildered when McGonagall howled with laughter.

"Oh, you haven't changed a bit, dearest Mister Longbottom!" she exclaimed, patting his cheek fondly. Neville couldn't help but smile back at the woman who was like another grandmother to him.

"Ah, but you forget, I used to cry when I got stuck in the step," Neville rebutted.

"I heard you swear all the way in my office, Longbottom. You aren't fooling anybody."

Muttering darkly, Neville went to work on his kippers, pointedly ignoring the smirk that he would have sworn was the inspiration, not the deterrent, for the Marauders, Fred and George Weasley, and the modern Weasley cousins.


End file.
